Another Journey
by Yva J
Summary: Takes place soon after 'A Person of Value' ends. Patty and Anton return to Jenkinsville to help her resolve the events of the past as well as embrace what the future will ultimately bring.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello and welcome to my newest story. Before you start reading this, please note that if you haven't read 'A Person of Value' that you might consider reading that before delving into this particular story. This is a sequel to 'A Person of Value', and takes place about a month after the epilogue in my other story._

_I have not yet decided all the finite details of this story, as I don't want to repeat the events in the other story, but I do intend to bring both of our heroes back to Jenkinsville eventually. It took me quite a bit of time to figure out what sort of plot this one was going to have. I also knew that I wanted to write it, but wasn't sure about how to go about it without it being boring or filled with too much detail._

_The first part of this does outline some of the experiences that I had when I first moved to Germany, so there are some autobiographical bits contained here, but I will leave you to ascertain which ones are real and which ones might be fantasy._

_Otherwise, enjoy the story, and please let me know what you think.

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**Another Journey**

A sequel to 'A Person of Value'

By: Yva J.

**Chapter 1**

Her life had changed in the wink of an eye. She had said 'Ja, ich will', to the most wonderful man she had ever known. Those words sealed their union and showed to all that she was now his wife.

It had only been a month since she and Anton had gotten married. Her three month residency was close to expiring and she would be returning to apply for three years.

Soon after their wedding day, they had gone to West Berlin for their honeymoon and had returned several days before. All her friends who had been there from America had returned to their prospective homes, leaving her to a new life in the heart of Europe.

Patricia Ann Reiker, formerly Bergen, was now a married woman living something of a fairy tale existence in a home that was quite different than what she was accustomed to.

As she sat sipping from a cup of tea, she rested her elbows against the table, her head lowering slightly as she stared down at the notes she had written that day in class. Earlier that week, she had started taking a class in the basic constructs of the German language and was now adjusting to her new life. Sometimes she felt depressed being somewhere where she did not speak the language or fit in, yet she knew in America the same could be said as well. She did not mention these emotions to her husband, but somehow she knew that he sensed her feeling of isolation.

On top of all of that, she was close to 100 kilometers away from Anton's family. This might as well have been on the other side of the planet.

Professor Erikson Karl Reiker and his wife, Deborah, had taken Patty into their fold as one of their own from the first moment she had stepped into their home. Patty could still remember how Deborah had wrapped her in her arms during her second day in Germany. "You are such a lovely hero," Deborah had told her, the words still ringing in her ears several months later. Anton's father insisted from the first moment they had met that she address him as 'Karl' and not 'Professor Reiker'. This was the family that Patty had always aspired to have.

Of course, now living in a flat in Hildesheim was not always easy, the distance between them and their German family was sometimes quite difficult. She especially missed Hannah, Anton's sister. She had moved to Frankfurt to work at the Goethe Institute there and was now so far away that visits were now few and far between.

As she sat contemplating what was happening in her life, the phone in the living room chimed, the ringing abruptly startling her. Placing her hand self-consciously over her heart, she slowly got to her feet and exited the kitchen. In the hallway, she made her way in the direction of the chimes that were emerging from the living room.

Please let the person calling speak English, she thought to herself. This same contemplation entered her mind whenever the phone would ring and Anton happened to not be at home. She reached the phone and grabbed it before it could ring a fourth time. "Reiker?" She spoke her new surname into the receiver.

This was something that she had quickly learned since moving there. It was a bit more formal than the general: 'Hello' that one got when calling someone in America. At least it did not leave room for one to conclude that they had perhaps dialed the wrong number.

"Patty?" A young sounding voice filled her ear the moment she spoke. It was a voice strained with typical stress that she recalled during her years of living in Jenkinsville.

A bubble of concern welled up in her chest as she found her voice and spoke her sister's name. "Sharon?"

"Yeah, it's me." The affirmative response came in the form of a relieved sigh.

"How on earth did you get this number?" She could not stop herself from asking. After all, curiosity had always been one of Patty's stronger suits and that was now compounded with concern that grew the moment she heard her sister's voice. It seemed abundantly clear that it was laced with worry. This also seemed to indicate that her eighteen-year-old sister was trying to get in touch with her for a reason and not just to chat.

It was true that Patty had not heard so much as a word from her sister since before she had left for Germany earlier that year. She had pretty much figured that her sister did not want any contact with her because of what Harry and Pearl Bergen might have said about the telegram that she and Anton had sent prior to getting married.

From Patty's point of view, it seemed abundantly clear that their parents were doing whatever they could to distance the two of them from one another. Now, given the fact that Sharon had reached out to her estranged sister, meant that perhaps Patty's assumptions had been inaccurate.

Regardless of any of that, she waited patiently for her sister to respond.

"I was snooping," Sharon confessed. "I found your telegram to Mother and Father in the study on top of a bunch of brochures for the store. I was trying to figure out what to do after Mother left this morning to go see Father."

"To go see Father?" Patty parroted as her eyebrows arched uncharacteristically in nonverbal confusion.

"Yeah, please don't be angry with me for calling like this, but, I'm scared. I've never been more scared in my life. Patty, I didn't know who else I could talk to."

"It's alright, I'm not angry with you. Just tell me what happened that has made you so afraid," she said calmly.

"Father was taken to the hospital early this morning," Sharon began. "I woke up to hear Mother in the hallway screaming and crying as though she was being tortured. Not knowing what to do, I finally got out of bed and managed to wrangle the story out of her. When she said that Father was sick, I immediately went to call for an ambulance. Less than ten minutes later, they arrived and took Father to the Emergency Room in Wynne City. I asked Mother if I might go along, but she would not hear of it."

Patty took a deep breath, her expression grave. Although there was no love loss between herself and her father, she would never wish any ill towards him. She also knew that objectivity and diplomacy was just what her sister needed at that moment. "Sharon, did they say anything about what was the matter with him or what his condition was?"

"I don't really know, mother came back earlier today to pick up some clothing and said something about him having 'cardiovascular' something or other." As she spoke her voice rose high with anxiety. "I don't know what it is, but it sounded serious. Anyway, all last week, Father kept complaining that he was always tired. Even Ruth stopped by here three days ago and said that he had gained weight and looked as though he was about to fall over because he was all out of breath."

"Let me guess, he kept insisting that nothing was wrong and that it was just stress because of something with the store," Patty said.

"Yeah," came the response. "Patty, what should I do?"

"I don't really know, but I will talk it over with Anton when he gets home," Patty said without thinking. She had yet to mention her husband to her sister at all and was not quite certain as to how Sharon would react. When the younger of the two sisters did not respond, Patty continued. "Perhaps he will have some idea about what it is and can put your mind at ease. Are you going to be home in the next half hour?"

"Yes," Sharon said. "But, Patty, I don't want to talk to Anton about any of this. Mother would be mortified and Father would probably end up worse off than he already is. I just wanted to tell you that something was wrong and that maybe you should think about coming home."

"I understand that you're worried, Sharon," Patty said patiently. Without thinking about what she was doing, her fist unconsciously clenched at her sister's blunt wording. This was exasperating, she thought. Her parents had gone and basically brainwashed Sharon against Anton and probably wanted her to 'come to her senses' and return home.

After several moments had passed, she guessed that it was to be expected after their telegram had arrived. Everything seemed to have escalated from there.

Perhaps it was for that reason that she could not really blame her little sister for her hostility or ignorance. After all, living with their parents would perhaps cause something of this kind to eventually come out.

After several moments of silence, she found her voice and spoke. "I'll call you back as soon as I talk to him. Just stay by the phone. If Mother knows that you actually found our number and called me, then chances are she would be the next one who is carted off to Wynne City Memorial."

"Okay," Sharon spoke and moments later, the line went dead.

As soon as she had returned the phone to the cradle, Patty took a deep breath as she began to run her hands through her hair. "What next?" She muttered under her breath as she self-consciously glanced towards the front door. Minka had always sauntered over to it and this seemed indicative that their cat was just as anxious for Anton to get home as she now was.

Instead of continuing to stare at the door, Patty returned to the kitchen and began cleaning up the dishes that had accumulated in the sink from breakfast and lunch. Her thoughts continued to drift as she washed the items and placed them in the metal drainer to dry. She then went over to the table and picked up the mail. Most of it was addressed to her husband, which she never saw fit to open since it was addressed to him. Several white and beige colored envelopes found their place on the dresser in the hallway.

Finishing this, she waited with almost uncharacteristic impatience for him to come home from work. This consisted of walking the length of the hallway to the living room, back down the hall to the kitchen and entering and leaving their bedroom.

As she paced, she would periodically pick up and replace the objects that were on shelves throughout the flat. She hated this feeling of nervousness that she carried, but now, more than ever, she chastised herself for the fact that it was about someone she was supposed to not even like.

Was she really so worried about her father? He had been nothing but a monster to her growing up, and yet, now she was now concerned for his well being. It seemed strange for her to feel that way towards someone that she had spent much of her youth being deathly afraid of.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day that she and Anton had sat in the hideout and he had asked her if she loved her father. It had taken some time, but she did admit it. 'No, I don't like him', she had said. Anton had managed to encourage the truth from her, and that was something that she had lived with long after he had left her that very same night.

Today, she remembered that moment as one of her unspoken triumphs. She had admitted something that was generally not ever spoken of.

Now with her father being sick with some strange sounding disease, her feelings towards him were perhaps changing. "I'm so confused…" she muttered under her breath.

"Confused about what, Liebling?" A voice abruptly emerged and she nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned in the direction of the front door.

Relief washed over her when she realized that Anton had returned home. He had come inside only to hear her mumbling under her breath. He could tell by her stance that she was desperately trying to make heads or tails of something, but was not quite certain as to what it was.

Patty raised her head and looked into the grayish blue eyes of Frederick Anton Reiker. He was dressed in a suit and tie, his hair ruffled by the late summer wind and his briefcase was casually tucked firmly under one arm.

He closed the door, placed the briefcase in front of the door to his study as he leaned down and gave Minka a scratch behind the ears. Straightening out once again, he moved over to where she was standing. His eyes were shadowed in love and openness as he lovingly pulled her into his arms and leaned in to give her a kiss 'hello'.

As he felt her tense body beneath his touch, Anton raised his hand and began to stroke her hair gently. "Whatever has confused you will soon be rectified, my dearest," he whispered softly. These words seemed to have helped immensely as she abruptly relaxed in his hold.

"Now, what is it that has you so confused?" He eventually asked, all the while keeping his voice soft. "Is it your class? Are you still struggling with 'der', 'die', and 'das'?"

"I'm always going to struggle with those pesky articles," she whispered softly. As her words filled the hallway, her body sank further into his arms, thus allowing her own to wrap snugly around him. In this stance, her fingers were a mere centimeter of touching. "Why can't German just have 'the' like in English? It would make my life so much easier."

Anton, despite himself, began to chuckle. "Yes, but you also have 'a', and 'an' as an article. Don't forget those," he said softly. When she did not respond in kind, his forehead creased in concern as she lowered her chin and allowed herself to sink even further into his hold. Eventually, her face came to rest against the firm softness of his chest.

"Then tell me," he said gently.

"My sister called this afternoon," she whispered. Unwillingly, she backed her way out of his hold so that she could look up at him.

"Sharon?" He asked. When she nodded, he continued. "That is strange as you hadn't heard anything from your family in such a long time." As he spoke, he could not help but remember the times when Patty would speak of her estranged family.

"I know," she whispered.

"You never even mentioned what all they said in that telegram your mother sent. In fact, you tore it up and threw in the rubbish bin right after you read it," he said.

"I know," she repeated, all the while feeling rather like a broken phonograph record.

"Are you going to tell me what it said, or shall I take a guess?" He asked.

"T-they said that they were going to disown me for marrying…" her voice broke, but Anton finished the sentence with the same sort of bravado that she had always admired about him.

"…A Nazi," he whispered as he regarded his wife. Her face now looked pale, her mouth drawn to such an extent that she looked as though she was going to start crying. He pulled her into the sanctuary of his arms, his soft words filling her. "The war is over, Liebling. If your family still holds prejudices about where I come from, then it is their problem, not yours. I do not hold anything against you."

Contrary to his words, the shame still washed over her until she felt the tears catching in her eyes.

How would she tell him what Sharon had conveyed to her only moments before his return home?

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_German Translations:_

_Ja, ich will – I do._

_Liebling – Beloved_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello everyone. First of all, many thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing this new story. I am only sorry that it has taken some time for me to get the next chapter up. I am currently having some medical issues to contend with. My right hand is presently non-functional. That means, when I write, I experience real physical pain. I ask that you please understand that until this gets taken care of, that the chapters will be not as quickly forthcoming as before. I will keep updates in my profile as to how that is shaping up. I will also be seeing a doctor today._

_I will do my best to get them posted when I can. Here's hoping that you will enjoy this next chapter.

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**Chapter 2**

Silence descended on the couple for several moments as Patty savored the feeling of being enfolded in the arms of her husband. As the embrace ended, she shyly raised her head and looked at him. "Anton, there's something I have to ask you."

"Does this have anything to do with your sister calling you this afternoon?" He asked.

Numbly, she nodded. "Yes, it does."

"What is it, Patty?" He asked gently.

"Sharon told me that Father is in the hospital," she whispered as she looked away. She knew almost internally that this was just another situation that she did not want to face. In fact, her instincts were telling her to forget about it entirely.

Her conscience, on the other hand, would hear of no such thing. All that she could do was wait for him to process what she had said and react upon it.

"I see," he eventually spoke as his fingers casually brushed over his chin. In truth, Anton was not quite certain where this conversation was going to go, but something did tell him that he was about to find out. "Did she say anything about how this had come about?"

Patty nodded. "In her words it was 'cardiovascular something or other'. I told her that I would tell you what she said and then call her back."

"Well, cardiovascular means that something is wrong with his heart," Anton said with an experienced nod. "She didn't say anything further?" He paused before continuing. "What I mean is, she didn't say anything about the symptoms that could lead a doctor to make that sort of diagnosis."

"Not really, but she did tell me that he was complaining about being tired all the time, and that he was easily winded. Does that help?"

Instead of immediately responding, Anton took her hand and led her gently down the hall. Instead of them going into the living room as she half anticipated, they entered the bedroom. Once inside, he motioned towards the bed, thus indicating that she ought to sit down.

Once seated, Patty watched and waited as he approached the bookshelf where many of his medical books and almanacs were lined up in a row. As his fingers began to dance across the spines of the books, she waited until he had found what he was looking for and pulled a thick brown colored book down from the shelf. He then walked over to the bed and seated himself next to her.

For several moments, she watched as Anton flipped silently through the book. Finding the page he wanted, he stopped everything he was doing and raised his head. "Since your father seems to be a very high-stressed individual, it could be any number of things. If your sister was not mistaken and it was something with the heart, he could be showing signs of heart disease or had suffered a mild heart attack."

"Could he die?" She asked.

"He could, but given that I know very little about his medical history, it would be presumptuous of me to try and second guess what his condition could be," he said truthfully as he closed the book. "Perhaps it would be better if we did not try and second guess everything from here. Perhaps it is time that we both consider returning to Jenkinsville and find out for ourselves."

"You mean, go there?" She asked, but when he nodded, she continued. "But why?"

"It would be prudent for us to return to Jenkinsville so you won't have second hand information to go on with regards to what is happening there," he began. "Patty, I would never make light of what you have experienced, I think you know that. However, from a professional perspective, I think that you need resolution in case your father does get sicker instead of better."

"Why are you talking like that?" She asked, suddenly feeling defensive. "You never mentioned anything about this before. You seemed rather resolute about me staying here."

"I know, but to know your family's medical history is realistic, and regardless of how many times you have run away from your parents, you need closure." He took a deep breath. "I'm not saying this to hurt you, and I know that it could very easily be like the boy who cried wolf." As he spoke, he leaned towards her and rested his head on her shoulder. "If your father really is sick as Sharon implied, then wouldn't it be better to face him before he dies than to feel guilt and remorse after the fact? Just think about it."

"I have, and I don't care," she whispered. "If he drops dead tomorrow, it will be no skin off my nose." As she spoke, he stood up with the book still in his hand before walking over to the bookshelf, and returning it to its spot. Once it was in place, he turned back around and looked at her, his gaze never faltering.

"I think you do," he said bluntly with an adamant shake of his head. "Whether you like it or not, Liebling, you do care, and you know that this is about your family. It could also have an impact on your physical well being. Now, I know that you are angry and hurt by their rejection as well as about the fact that they did not bother to come to our wedding. Perhaps now is the time for you to stand up to them. Perhaps you will discover the importance of making them understand that you are an adult and have a right to make your choices and reach your own conclusions. Even if it were detract away from their actions and intentions."

Patty looked at him. "But, Anton…"

"…I know you're afraid of going back," he interrupted softly.

Shamefaced, she nodded. "It's not just that. Anton, I'm afraid of going back _alone_."

"You won't be alone," he said shaking his head. "Whatever you decide to do, you will never ever be alone, Patty. You will always have me right there beside you. That is part of the vow I made to you when we got married." Gently, he reached over and touched her face, his fingertips light as they brushed against her cheeks. "If your family cannot accept that, then that will be their loss, not ours."

"But what if it's nothing and my father's fine?" she asked. "I mean; isn't it possible that Sharon might have misunderstood or overreacted? I mean; don't get me wrong, I do understand that she is a bit frightened since our mother wouldn't allow her to go to the hospital. That's probably why she called me in the first place; she was scared."

"Are you?" He asked.

"Am I what?" She whispered.

"Scared?"

"A little," she nodded reluctantly. "I don't like him very much, but I also don't want anything bad to happen to him." She took a deep breath. "Does that make any sense?"

"It makes perfect sense," Anton said as he stood up and offered his hand down to her. "So, shall we call your sister back?"

"I guess," she whispered as they left the room and went down the hall to the living room. As soon as they had reached the room, they went over to the sofa and Patty picked up the phone.

Once she had dialed the number, she placed the object up to her ear and waited. Her gaze wandered from her lap over to Anton as the call was picked up. "Hello?"

"Sharon, it's Patty," she began.

"You called back," emerged the tiny response.

"I told you that I would," Patty said as she reached for Anton's hand and felt his fingers winding their way around her hand. "Have you spoken to Mother since we talked?"

"No," Sharon said. "She hasn't been back since early this morning and has no idea that we even spoke."

"So there's no new information?" Patty asked.

"No, what did what's his name say?" Sharon asked, her words suddenly stilted.

"_Anton_ said that it could be a number of things, but that 'cardiovascular something or other' generally refers to problems with the heart," Patty said. "He said that the symptoms you told me about could trace back to a number of things, but he could not reach any specific conclusions about it."

Anton nodded. "He will probably be checked over by his doctor there and then they should be able to give a more concise diagnosis."

"So basically, what he's saying is that Father could die." Sharon's voice emerged as soon as he had stopped speaking. Her voice was so loud that Anton could hear it from where he was sitting. He cringed at the loud intensity of it.

Patty took a deep breath. "He could," she tried to speak over her sister's frightened words, but found that to be increasingly difficult. "But that does not mean he will."

"Are you going to come, Patty?" Sharon asked.

"Anton and I have spoke about making the trip, yes," she responded. "We'll be making arrangements for it in the coming days."

"Oh God, Patty, you can't be serious."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"You can't bring him with you," Sharon snapped, her voice laced in what could only be described as hostility.

"He's my husband, Sharon, and I will not go anywhere without him."

"Do you realize what this would do to Father?" Sharon asked. "If his heart doesn't kill him, that will."

Patty took a deep breath, the anger starting to build up inside of her. It was clear that Sharon had been brainwashed by the prejudices of their parents, and now she was left in the middle of an ongoing resentment that her family carried towards her husband. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "Listen Sharon, I will not come to Jenkinsville without Anton. You should know better than to even try to put those kind of conditions on me. Now, whether or not you, Mother, and Father like it, Anton is my husband now and I adamantly refuse to go anywhere without him," Patty said firmly. "If you're going to accept my presence or even ask for it, then you should learn to accept his as well."

"I don't care," Sharon's voice abruptly emerged. "I had hoped that you were going to see to reason, but it seems apparent that you are not. I can tell you this though, if you're going to bring that Nazi scum to Jenkinsville, then if I were you, I wouldn't even bother coming because none of us will want to see you!" With that, Patty's little sister slammed down the phone.

Patty sat for several moments with the dead phone still resting in her hand long after Sharon had hung up on her. "I think going there is a bad idea," she eventually found her voice, but turned and looked at Anton. "I don't want anything bad to happen to either of us."

"Nothing should happen," he said softly. "The war ended ten years ago and perhaps now that there is peace between Germany and America at last, there can also be peace for your family."

"You make that sound nice, but even if my parents did by some act of God find a way to tolerate me, I don't think there is even the remotest chance of them making peace with you," she said softly. "It's bad enough for me, but I know it will be hell for you and I don't want to put you through that."

"But I already am," he said gently. "Patty, when are you going to realize that I was dragged into this situation long before today?" He asked.

"You mean when we got married?" She asked feebly.

"No, even before that," he said. "It happened the moment I ran out of the safety of the garage and tried to protect you from your father over twelve years ago." He smiled gently at her as he stroked her face gently. "And do you know something?"

"What?" She asked.

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," he affirmed. "Patty, you have to know that everything you once were, and everything that you are today has become the greatest blessing in the world to me. You should know that I would walk through all the dangers in the world if I could help you to find the peace you so richly deserve. I will go with you because I know what you feel when you feel it. We are somehow so connected that I feel it as well."

Patty nodded as the tears escaped from beneath her eyes. "I thought I was alone in this. That's how it felt on our wedding day."

"It was never the case, Patty, not ever," he said gently. "But, do you see why it is that I think you need to go back to Jenkinsville?" Anton asked softly. "You find the resolution that you need there, and then you can face the future, as was intended."


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello and welcome back to the next installment of this story. I am so happy that you are enjoying it and that you like what I have done with these characters. Patty and Anton's marriage sort of mirror my own, as I am American and married to a German citizen. So, many of these experiences and feelings that Patty have are actually some of mine own from the first months of living in Germany._

_Perhaps that is what makes the story seem so real to those of you reading._

_Many, many, many thanks to those of you reading and reviewing my story. I deeply appreciate all of your comments and hope that you will continue to read and let me know what you think of this story. I am also sorry that it has taken me some time to get around to posting an installment here. The only excuse has been the tendonitis that I had in my right arm for several weeks. Now that seems to be a thing of the past, and I want to thank everyone who thought about me and kept those good vibes coming with regard to my healing. The words 'Schatz' and 'LIebling' are terms of endearment in the German language.  
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_Okay, enough babbling, it's time to get on with Chapter 3. Do enjoy and thanks again._

_Yva J.

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**Chapter 3**

For several moments after these words had emerged, Patty thought about what her husband had said. Yet, more than that, she thought about how he was willing to help her to make peace with her past. Her father was sick, that should evoke a sense of something inside of her – well something besides indifference, that is.

The trials and tribulations of her youth would not allow this to cease. In fact, her father's rabid sounding voice always seemed to echo in her conscience whenever his name was even mentioned. "Jews leave Europe, not live there," were the words that echoed in her mind during the months leading up to her and Anton's wedding. They were the words on the telegram that her parents had sent and they seemed to stay with her no matter what she said or did.

From the moment that Anton had left her back when she was twelve, Patty knew beyond any doubt that she was a changed person. She had gone from believing that she would spend the rest of her life in Jenkinsville working at the store, to yearning for adventure in the heart of Europe. This dream was not simply because of Anton, although she knew that he had catalyzed it. Somehow, it had become real to her because of her needing to get away from the abusive and controlling nature of her father as well as the pettiness of her mother.

Throughout much of her youth, Patty had opted to always keeping the Germany part of that particular equation to herself. No one back in Jenkinsville had known of her connection to Anton, but today she figured that although not present, she was the talk of the town. No doubt, did people like Edna Louise Jackson and Mary Wren have her name as the main target of petty gossip.

Perhaps armed with this knowledge, Patty realized how the thought of her and Anton returning to Jenkinsville seemed rather like entering the hornets' nest.

After she and Anton had returned to Hildesheim after their honeymoon trip had ended, Patty began to acclimate herself to this new life. One of the things she understood was her need to dismiss this romantic essence that she had always associated with living in the heart of Europe. This had given way to something that resembled realism. Through that, she accustomed to her daily routine.

Her limited abilities in the German language was the first thing that necessitated change. Several days after they had returned and Anton had gone back to work, Patty soon realized that the days alone would make her stir-crazy. She had to do something to keep a semblance of independence, so she enrolled herself in a class in the German language at the local community college and started learning the finite details of the language. Through that, she started to make friends, most of whom, like herself, were foreigners.

Now, she sat on the sofa in her home with Anton seated next to her, her hand holding tightly to his, their fingers intertwined as silence descending on the room.

The war was over, and yet, the battle that raged inside of Patty Reiker did not cease. In fact, it was in full force, and Anton knew it. Leaning over, he released her hand so that he could wrap a gentle arm around her before pulling her into the sanctuary of his embrace. As he held her, he could feel the droplets of moisture against his shirt just beneath where her head now rested.

Wordlessly, he stroked her exposed cheek with his fingertips, the soft touch encouraging even more tears. "I know this isn't easy, Schatz," he whispered as his soothing ministrations continued. "But, I will be with you, and I won't let anything happen to you."

"B-but, what about you?" She whispered as her fears burst forth in the simple words she spoke. She was not sure if he could even hear her words, as her face was still meshed against the crispness of his shirt.

"I'll be fine," he said with a soft chuckle. "After all, Liebling, I did survive the war, did I not?"

"Yes, but…" her voice trailed.

"…Listen to me Patty, I know this will not be easy for either one of us," he said. "But, we will survive."

"Why are we even talking about going there?" She asked.

"Because it's your hometown, and regardless of what your feelings about them are, they are your family." As these words descended on the room, Anton took a deep breath as he helped her to sit back up. Once she was comfortable, he clasped his hands together and cupped them just under his mouth. For several seconds, he sat in this manner collecting his thoughts.

Moments later, Anton lowered his hands, but reached for one of hers for. Once he held it, he spoke. "When I was in America, and long after I had left you, I remembered how you had asked me about whether or not I had any brothers and sisters. I told you about Hannah, and I recalled a sense of sadness overwhelming me at that recollection. I was not sad about the fact that I had a sister, I was sad because I had neglected her all these years and did not know if I would ever be able to rectify that. Perhaps it was through those regrets that led to my making unwise and dangerous choices. The point is, I do not want you to have to contend with the same feelings and uncertainties that I had." He took a deep breath. "Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

"I think so," she whispered. "But I'm still scared."

"I know, I am a little bit as well," he admitted.

"You are?" She asked.

"Sure, I was a prisoner of war there, I have memories of that place as well, memories of picking cotton and acting as a translator. I often thought after my escape that I was probably more needed in the capacity of communicator than in that of cheap labor," he said smiling slightly.

As these words hung in the air and despite her fears, Patty smiled.

After several more moments of silence passed between them, Anton broke it as he took charge of the situation. "Now, because your father is not well, and my personal opinions of the man must be cast off for your sake, I think that we must begin to think logically about what it is we need to do. As luck would have, I have always planned my actions to the letter. Perhaps that is what one might call a gift of my occupation." He smiled as he got up from the sofa. "I'll be right back."

He left the room but after several seconds had passed, he returned with a tiny sized green colored booklet in his hand. Patty somehow recognized it as being a passport and waited for him to sit back down and show it to her.

As soon as he was seated, he handed it to her. "Right after our reunion in Hamburg, I took an extended lunch break one day and went to the city office to have a new passport done. Now that your residency has been extended to three years, you can freely travel. Your passport was also updated by the American consulate in Hamburg, so all that is really left for us to do is for us to arrange our passage to Jenkinsville."

Patty silently opened the booklet and beheld the picture that was on the front page. Unlike most passport photographs, Anton looked wonderful in his. He was smiling and somehow this showed her that everything about the photograph was perfect. "You really don't mind coming with me?" She asked nervously as she returned the booklet to him.

"No, I don't, in fact, I wouldn't have it any other way," he said gently as he got to his feet and pulled her up with him. With his arm still around her, he started to lead her out of the room. "Besides, I know that I could not fathom a single day without you."

As they stepped inside the bedroom, Anton tossed his passport on the bedside table before turning back to face his wife.

For her part, Patty looked into the depths of her husband's gray colored eyes as a smile graced her lips. Feeling a sense of courage overwhelming her, she felt his lips brushing against her own. "I think we will be alright," she whispered as he leaned down to run his lips along the sensitive part of her neck. At that moment, regardless of what would happen in America, she knew beyond any doubt that as long as Anton was with her, everything would be fine.

* * *

At the same instant that Patty and Anton were making plans to come to Jenkinsville, Sharon Bergen stood in her bedroom at home. The pink frills of her childhood had been replaced with the hues of purple and blue, her present favorite colors. Today, she was a mere shadow of the child she had once been when her older sister had protected the German POW during the war. Of course, although the war had ended over a decade ago, she could not let go of the lessons of her childhood and how her elders considered all Germans to be Nazis and, therefore, enemies of the free world.

She now knew the family secret and that was that her older sister had gone off and done the unspeakable. She had actually married one. Up until finding the telegram that Patty had sent, Sharon had never known what had become of her sister. In fact, for all she knew, Patty was still living in Atlanta and working at a newspaper.

She recalled overhearing her father's reaction to the arrival of the small yellow slip of paper. Although it had been close to impossible for her to understand what specifically was happening, she recalled hearing him ravage his way though the house screaming 'God damn her' at the top of his lungs. Her mother, of course, had fallowed behind saying 'watch your blood pressure; Harry' all the while wafting about a fold out fan and keeping her own perspiration at bay.

This had been several months ago, and now, according to the telegram, her sister was a married woman.

Sharon was angry, not just because her parents had not bothered to share this bit of information with her, but because she had overheard it from Mary Wren, the town gossip. How had Mary even known what was happening with her own family, and she didn't? This made her even angrier, and the safest target for the eighteen-year-old girl's wrath was a man she had never even met.

Nor did she want to.

Sighing deeply, she stared down at the fading typeface that covered the telegram. Finding Patty and Anton's number had not been that difficult, but she knew that if her parents were aware that she had called and told her older sister of her father's condition, then she might as well pack and move to Memphis immediately.

With Patty here, she thought, maybe I could convince her to stay and then everything would get better. Patty could work at the store and then that would make it easier for Daddy. What she did not expect was that her sister would be bringing her much detested husband along.

If he were to show up in Jenkinsville, then Sharon knew that it would affirm all the rumors and hearsay that had taken hold of the town. In fact, because of what Mary Wren was saying about her sister, Sharon, herself, had been dubbed 'the sister of a traitor' at school, and many of her friends had turned on her, thus making her as big an outcast as her sister had once been. This meant, essentially, that her young life had become a living hell and for that, she loathed her brother-in-law even more than her parents did.

"Sharon, time for dinner." A voice abruptly emerged, which she recognized as their new housekeeper, Olivia St. John.

"Coming," she called out, but instead of speaking further, she folded the telegram and crouched down in order to return it to the envelope that was taped to the underside of the middle drawer of her dresser. This was the place that she knew that it would remain a secret. As long as no one knew that she had it, or even contacted her parents, then all was right in the world. Somehow Sharon knew that if anyone found out about her knowing this, then her father would, no doubt, land in the hospital for an indefinite period of time.

Slamming the drawer shut, she straightened out in order to beheld her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were still a bit puffy from the crying she had done during the conversation with Patty.

At the same instant, she understood that if Patty actually had the nerve to come to Jenkinsville, then it would be an unannounced visit. Nothing would trace back to Sharon if she could help it. The fact that she had enough on her mind, she did not need angry parents to boot.

Finishing the task of patting her hair into place, Sharon walked out of the room and down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. As she came into the room a familiar sight met her wandering gaze. Her mother was sitting at the table fussing about the calories in meatloaf. Of course, with her incessant moaning, Sharon realized that perhaps her mother had the right idea. The meatloaf really did look remotely like something that was served in the Jenkinsville High School cafeteria on 'leftover day'.

Sharon sat down at the table as she felt the smell of ground beef and tomato paste permeate her nose. Staring down at the food, she felt herself wanting to excuse herself and run, not walk, to the Victory Café and order a plate special.

Instead, she raised her head and looked over at her father. He was a mere shadow of the man he had once been. The usual shouting matches that had become the norm in this household had ceased to somewhat leaving a man who communicated through grunts in its wake. Now, instead of constantly shouting as a means to push his will onto other people, Harry Bergen sat around and fidgeted like a nervous schoolboy.

It had been this way ever since the doctor had advised him to quit smoking.

"Smoking helps me to relax," he had argued when his wife took the doctor's words to heart. In response to this, Pearl had gone through the house and snatched up every last Lucky Strike cigarette in the house and got rid of them. This argument by the family patriarch had been lost.

"You're going to have to find some other hobby that will alleviate stress, Harry. I want you to live to see the day when we have to Sharon away," Pearl had said in response to her husband's grousing.

Several weeks later, Harry suffered a mild heart attack and spent a week in the hospital. There, he had blood taken and it was soon discovered, that against doctor's orders, Harry had been smoking secretly.

On the day of his scheduled release, Doctor Warren had come into Harry's room, a clipboard in his hand and a stern look shadowing his face as he addressed Sharon and Patty's parents. The next words that would emerge from him would force the family to take stock in their current situation. "If you don't cool it with the smoking and the stress, Harry, you will not live to see your next birthday."

It was then, that Sharon's parents had to hire several new assistants to help by working at the store so that Harry Bergen would be forced to take it easy. Sharon soon realized that her father quitting with the smoking had been the hardest challenge to face the family in years.

Now, sitting in front of a plate of meatloaf, she wondered if calling her sister would somehow mirror that in terms of difficulty.

Whatever the case, it was now too late for regrets. She had already called her sister, and what was done, was done. All that was left for her to do was to make the best of the situation.

If only she knew what the best thing was.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello and welcome to (finally) the next installment of this story. I was a little bit stuck on where to take this, and last night an idea came to me, so this is really freshly written and edited material. As with anything that I write, if you find typos, bring them to my attention in your reviews, and I'll take care of them._

_As always, reviews are greatly appreciated and hopefully it will encourage you to go ahead and let me know what you think. I am trying as hard as I can to write Ruth, but her speech patterns come a great deal harder for me than I anticipated, but I did want to make her a very poignant character in this story, as I really loved her in the book._

_Here's hoping you enjoy this next installment.__

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**Chapter 4**

Three days after her conversation with Patty, Sharon was still confused. She wanted to do something that would help her father, but was now uncertain if contacting her sister had been the right option at all. The more she interacted with her parents, the more afraid she distanced she became at the prospect of her sister and brother-in-law coming to visit from Germany.

This basically meant that she would have no choice but to tell them that she had unearthed the telegram that they had sent from Germany.

On top of that, the yearly inventory was coming due at the store, which meant that Harry's emotional state was more high strung and stressed out than ever before. This clearly indicated that Sharon would not be able to tell either of her parents about what she had done without one or both of them hitting the ceiling. Would they understand?

Would anyone?

On that particular day, it was raining, and Jenkinsville looked remotely like a swamp with various buildings sticking out from amidst the mud-covered streets. School had let out and now she was on her way home. As she walked, she gripped the handle of her umbrella and made her way from the school towards the two-story house where she lived with her parents.

Passing through town, she happened to bypass her parents' store. As she walked by, she stopped and peered into the shop through the front window. Sister Parker was in the window display arranging the merchandise. Periodically, she would move something and then make a notation on the paper, which covered the clipboard in her wrinkled hand.

This left Sharon to conclude that they were getting started on the inventory that day. Thinking it would be unwise to enter the store, Sharon offered a halfhearted wave as she continued to make her way along the street. Further down, she passed by the Sav-Mor Market only to see the door abruptly open and a familiar woman coming outside. As the woman started to make her way along the narrow sidewalk, she shifted her packages as Sharon spoke.

"Hi Ruth," she said as respectfully as she could. Their former housekeeper, although someone that Harry detested, was someone Sharon sorely missed as well as liked and respected.

The feelings seemed reciprocated as the heavyset woman turned around, her dark eyes brightening as she recognized who was addressing her. As she managed to get the parcels shifted to a comfortable position, she spoke, her voice laced in motherly undertones.

"Well hello there Sharon Honey," she said. "How have you been?"

"Okay," she said, her voice the direct depiction of a balloon lacking in air.

"You don't look 'okay', nosiree, you look as though you have gone and lost your best friend," Ruth said. "Why don't you come back to the house with me? I got a bunch of cold stuff in here, and if I don't get it packed away quickly, it'll go bad."

Sharon took a deep breath. "Sure, but can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything old Ruth can do for you?" She responded to the teenager's question with one of her own. "Course you already know that."

"I need to ask you something sort of important, but I'm afraid to talk about it here," she said as she cast a glance around where they were standing. The town had ears; the local gossips would no doubt intercept anything she said out in the open.

Ruth nodded understandingly. Smiling, she began to lead the young girl down the street and away from the market. "It ain't a very nice day, is it honey babe?"

"No, it's awful and the weatherman said it's going to get worse," Sharon groused.

"Maybe, but I reckon the good Lord knows what He's doing," she said smiling.

"Maybe," Sharon muttered as they reached the small house where Ruth lived. It was an old structure with chipped paint and broken porch swing. Hand sewn gingham curtains hung in the windows. The house itself was small in comparison to where Sharon lived, but somehow it emanated warmth that her own home lacked.

Approaching the front door, Ruth opened it without so much as searching for a key. "Robert must be home," she said.

"How's he doing?" Sharon asked.

"He's alright," Ruth said with all the pride in the world. "He got a commission at a church in Wynne City and moved there last month. He's been known to come back here and use the solitude of Jenkinsville so he can work on his weekly sermon."

Sharon nodded. "I guess compared to Wynne City, Jenkinsville is pretty quiet," she mused as they entered the house and found Robert seated on the living room sofa with a bible and a stenographer's notebook in front of him. He had been taking notes and sipping milk as he worked.

Raising his head, he got to his feet. "Let me help you, Momma," he said as he went over to his mother and relieved her of the heavy parcels. "From the looks of things, you bought enough food to feed an entire unit." He smiled, the brightness of the gesture not going unnoticed by Sharon. She watched as he moved the parcels into the kitchen with ease and returned several moments later.

As soon as he had come back out into the room, a stab of jealousy filled the young Bergen girl's heart as she watched the warmth of love that emanated from mother to son. For the longest time, she had heard great things about Robert Hughes. From what her friend Sue Ellen had said, Ruth's son had the ability to preach to the most faithless and encourage them to walk the straight and narrow.

Why couldn't my life be as nice as all of this? She asked herself as her gaze wandered over to the bookshelf and she noticed something there that looked foreign and out of place. It looked to be a book with a strange language printed along the golden embossed spine. The word 'Bibel' lined it and the book seemed to have pieces of paper sticking out of it in various places.

Before she could inquire to Ruth or her son about what it was or where they gotten it, Robert raised his head and looked over at her. "Well, hello there, Sharon Bergen," he said with the very same ease as that when he addressed a congregation of worshippers. "How are you this fine day?"

"Okay I guess, but it's not so 'fine' outside, it's been raining buckets since Monday afternoon," she said.

"Liquid sunshine," Robert supplied. "It's a gift from God. Helps the flowers to grow and keeps our markets filled with fresh vegetables and fruits." He paused. "Speaking of the fruits of our labor, what are you gonna to make us for dinner, Momma?"

" Why 'us'?" Sharon asked.

"Why not, you think that I'm the sort of man who talks of feeding the multitudes on Sunday mornin's but can't bestow that away from the pulpit? Between you and me, I hear your daddy went and hired a new housekeeper who can't even cook." Still standing, he went over and nudged Sharon in a similar manner as an older brother would do when teasing a younger sibling. "She's a dang good singer, but she can't cook a meatloaf near as good as Momma. Besides, I have talked to Reverend Benn on several occasions and his wife knows more about the goings on around this town than Miss Reeves does. That is, she knows that Gertrude is a fine woman, but has absolutely no talent when it comes to cooking."

"Oh Robert baby, you can talk the stripes off a barber pole if given the chance," Ruth said affectionately. "Since you mentioned meatloaf, how 'bout I make you both that?"

"Sounds great, but I gotta get back to this sermon, the words won't be written by osmosis ya know. I still got a ways to go and it's already Thursday," he said. "If I don't have that done, the worshippers will get to hear several more numbers by the choir instead of a good sermon."

"Then we'll leave you to work, honey, but don't you worry none, you'll get it done in time," Ruth said smiling.

As the preacher returned his attention to his notes, Sharon followed Ruth into the kitchen and the door was closed behind them. "He's really nice," she remarked once the two of them were alone.

"He's a good boy, but always says that to me on Thursdays," she smiled. "Somehow he always manages to whip out a sermon that would do the Lord as proud as he does me."

"It's noticeable," Sharon said softly. "I mean; that you're proud of him."

Ruth smiled as she started unpacking the groceries. "So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about, honey babe?"

"Patty," she whispered.

"What about her?" Ruth asked.

"You know she got married?"

"Yes, I was at her wedding. Her husband's family done sent me a ticket to witness the nuptials," she began. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to attend."

"But it was in Germany," she whispered.

"Yes it was, and it was something quite extraordinary," Ruth said as she unwrapped a two pound bundle of ground beef and put it in a bowl. She then reached for a sack of onions and pulled one out. "Your folks didn't tell you about it, did they?"

Sharon shook her head. "No, I found the telegram that they sent about three months ago. I didn't even know until last week. They never even told me that she was getting married. They just say all this nasty stuff about her running off and leaving the family in limbo."

"And you believe them," Ruth supplied. "I spose it stands to reason, you have been exposed to it for some time now. Probably since the war when people in this town talked nasty about things they have no idea 'bout."

"Ruth did you know the guy she married?" Sharon asked.

"Yes, baby, I do, and he's a mighty good man. A caring man, probably nothing like what you may think," Ruth said.

"But, he's a Nazi," Sharon blurted out, all the while unable to stop herself.

"No, baby, he's no Nazi, but he is German. I knows that he loves your sister and would lay down his very life for her," Ruth scolded gently. "That I saw with my own two eyes when you was just a little one. Sharon, you can't harbor judgment against someone you ain't never met."

"Ruth, there's something else that I need to tell you," she whispered.

"Well, I'm all ears, go ahead and say it."

"They're going to come here," Sharon said.

"You sure about this, or is this just another rumor you heard?" Ruth asked. "Did your daddy get another telegram?"

"No, I just know. After I found a telegram that they sent, I called Patty. I didn't know what to do. Daddy was saying that her husband was a doctor, and I got really scared after I overheard them talking about his health."

Ruth nodded as the teenager continued speaking. "Patty said that they would be coming and I guess I only wanted her to come back, but then she said that she wouldn't be coming alone…" As the last words hung in the silence of the room, she managed to swallow several times before she found her voice and continued speaking. "…Ruth, she's bringing him with her."

"Stands to reason, baby," Ruth said as she began to slice up the onions. "When you get married someday, as indeed you probably will, the man you wed will be with you during those difficult times as well. To expect Patty to come without her husband would be selfish."

"I'm not being selfish," the teenager responded, her voice laced in indignant undertones. "I'm only thinking about our family."

"I know, but you gotta accept that Anton is a part of Patty's family now, and if she comes then she will bring him with her. Consider this, she loves him and the moral support she will need cannot only come from me," Ruth said logically.

"What do you mean?" Sharon asked.

"You called him a Nazi just now, and yet you never met him," Ruth said. "You got a set of judgments against Anton that you'll never get over so long as you keep listenin' to the gossips of this town."

Sharon took a deep breath. "I'm not listening to them."

"Then who are you listenin' to baby?" Ruth asked directly.

"I don't know, I just don't like him," emerged her response.

"You don't know him," Ruth repeated firmly as she continued to chop the onions. As soon as she finished, she dumped the pieces into the bowl with the ground beef. "Perhaps you should meet him first and then you can decide whether or not to like him."

The teenager shrugged her shoulders and started towards the door. "I'll let you know when they are coming," she paused. "Am I still welcome to stay for dinner?"

"Of course, I just don't want to hear that word in my house anymore," Ruth said.

"What word?" Sharon asked.

"Nazi, especially in reference to Anton," Ruth said as she shook a wooden spoon at the teenager. "You hear me talkin' girl?"

Sharon nodded obediently. "Yes Ma'am."

"Good, now then we can get this loaf in the oven and I'll finish putting the food away."

Instead of responding, Sharon went over to the table and sat down. "Ruth, do you want to know the truth?"

"Yes," she responded kindly.

"The thought of meeting Patty's husband…uh the…I mean; Anton," she began.

"What is it, Honey?"

"He scares me," Sharon looked down at the flat surface of the table. "I know it sounds silly, but Mr. Covington, our history teacher, said some really awful stuff about Germans and Jews. I'm still Jewish even though I don't go to synagogue."

"You're afraid to meet Patty's husband, is that it?" Ruth asked.

Instead of verbally responding, Sharon looked down at her lap and nodded helplessly.


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry for the short chapter, but hopefully the next one will be a tad bit longer. Many thanks to my reviewers who have been so awesome in giving their comments about this story. Here's hoping you enjoy the latest installment.

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**Chapter 5**

It did not take too terribly long for Patty and Anton to plan their trip. In fact, with the efficiency that Germans were known for, Anton managed to get everything taken care of within two weeks of his wife having spoken to her little sister. The telegram was written and instead of being sent to the store, Patty opted to sending it to Ruth.

Along those same lines, Anton decided to write to David and Kathy Lowery in New York City and explained to them what was going to transpire on the fifteenth of that month. The response that had came back was consumed in supportive words and affirmations of the couple coming with them to Jenkinsville as well. Their rationale was consumed in the idea of researching the background to the story that had made David a famous theatrical writer.

The evening before their scheduled departure, Patty and Anton found themselves in Göttingen with his parents. Hannah was not present, although she had agreed to meet them in Frankfurt airport before they were scheduled to depart.

Patty was noticeably nervous about the trip, one because she had never been up in a plane before, but also because she was afraid of what they would be facing once they arrived in Jenkinsville. She was far too logical to even begin to think that the reception would be a positive one. The town had no doubt changed, but according to Sharon and Ruth's communications, the mentality had not.

After they had arrived at the Reiker house, Patty had opted to going into the dining room with Deborah and helping to set the table for dinner. This left Anton and his father to speak about the pending trip in the study.

As the door was closed behind the two men, Anton took a deep breath as his gaze shifted about the familiar room. Just as during his youth, the place smelled of old books and pipe tobacco. If anything, this left Anton with the same feeling of nostalgia as it always had whenever he would enter the room.

"So, you're really going back to that place again, aren't you?" The professor ultimately asked his son as he reached for a pipe and began packing it carefully with the tobacco. "I always figured that you would have washed your hands of that place."

"I would have, but this is about Patty, not me," he said as he seated himself in the leather chair that was just to one side of his father's cluttered desk. The desk somehow looked the very same as it did when his father had taught at the University of Göttingen just before the war. Now he was retired, but books and pamphlets were strewn casually across the surface of the desk.

"Speaking of which, Patricia does look a bit nervous today," the older man remarked with compassion and understanding laced in his words. "It would seem as though she hasn't been eating since the decision was made."

"I've been trying to get her to eat, but I can't force her, she's a grown woman," Anton said. "Papa, it was my idea that we take this trip."

"Your idea?" Erikson asked as though parroting back his son's words.

"Well, I surmised that it might be a good idea for Patty to face her past so that when all is said and done, we can look to the future together," Anton said with defeat etched in his voice. "It's one of those things that you know you have to do even though you may not be all that thrilled about doing it. I wanted to help Patty make this decision, but perhaps I did push it a little too hard."

"How did you manage that?"

"I told her that it would be a good idea in case something does happen to her father. I suppose in hindsight there really is nothing worse than waiting for something to happen, doing nothing, and then living with regrets." Anton took a deep breath, the air now smelling more of pipe tobacco than old books. For whatever reason, the smell calmed him somewhat. He knew that there would be no comparing of the scent of his father's pipe to the stinky cigarettes that Patty's father often smoked.

Yet, somehow there was an odd sensation that remained. This was consumed in his thoughts of leaving home and going to a strange place that was embodied in unhappy memories. Leaving his family behind was almost too much for Anton to bear, yet this time, unlike the last, he knew that he would be coming back.

"You know, it was supposed to be her choice, not yours," Erikson said gently, his voice breaking into Anton's thoughts and bringing crashing back to reality.

"I know that," Anton ran his hand through his dark hair as he regarded his father. "I just know that it was the right thing to do."

"Does she?"

"I don't know, it's pretty clear that she's frightened about going back, though," he said thoughtfully.

"Anton, I know that you mean well, but remember that the claiming one's past and contending with it is going to rest on her shoulders," the professor said gently. "I happen to know that for you, a former prisoner of war, that this decision is just as difficult. Just because you may hold a certain amount of wisdom in your hand does not mean that this will be easy for either one of you."

"I don't expect it to be," Anton said.

"Well, I think it would be prudent for me to tell you that just this afternoon, we received a telegram from Patricia's friend, Ruth," Erikson said as he began to rummage around the desk in search of the pink slip of paper. When he could not find it, he eventually shrugged his shoulders. "Must be in the other room," he mused.

"Just tell me what it said," Anton said.

"That neither you nor your wife may be welcomed in town. People are still talking about what happened during the war. They are angry and upset," Erikson said as the door opened and Deborah and Patty came into the study.

"Dinner is ready and on the table," the elder of the two women said as Anton got up and went over to where Patty was standing. He extended his arms and drew her gently into his hold. What he did not expect to feel was that beneath his touch, she was trembling slightly as he led her from the room.

* * *

Outside in the corridor, he looked down at her, his gaze now consumed in concern. She was terrified about the trip and he knew it. "Patty?" He whispered her name.

"I'm fine," she said trying to offer him a brave smile.

"No, you're not," he said, his voice consumed in a force that was somehow unfamiliar to both of them. "Tell me what's the matter?"

"I'm scared of going back," she confessed as she lowered her head. "I don't know what's going to happen when we get there and I'm afraid to find out."

"In a way, so am I," he said softly.

"You are?" She raised her head and looked at him.

"Yes," he said with a slow nod of his head. "It is not always the best thing to admit that one is scared of what might be around the next corner. Somehow I recall how we talked about courage in the hideout all those years ago."

"Then why are we doing this?"

Anton took a deep breath. "Because based on what you told me the day that your sister called as well as the knowledge I have gathered about these particular illnesses, it's remotely possible that your father may be dying, Patty."

"I don't care," she whispered.

"I don't believe that for even an instant," he said gently.

"But Anton, I really don't, you're my family now," she managed to speak, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Perhaps, but do be honest with yourself," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean; tell me that you do care about your father," he said. "I know that you do and I don't think ill of you for admitting it. I think it makes you a much stronger person than he'll ever be and much more loving. Maybe what you are doing is showing him that even though he may not believe it, that someone does care for him. After all, it was you who decided that you love him enough to come thousands of miles to be with him in his hour of need."

"I remember, you told me that he was afraid that no one loved him," she whispered. "It was after he beat me and you came running out of the hideout to protect me."

"Yes, later he came into the garage and started talking to himself." He took a deep breath. "Do you know how it is I know that you genuinely care for him?"

"How?" She asked.

"I sometimes hear you at night right after I turn off the light. You lay in bed crying into your pillow. When you finally do manage to go to sleep, I hear you speaking as though you are dreaming about the residues of the past. You're begging him not to hurt you and pleading with him to at least try and understand the things that make you the person that you are." As he spoke, he gently cupped her face with one hand and allowed his thumb to stroke her cheek.

Moments passed and he could feel the tears that were streaming down her face and meshing between his fingers. "I know that you are afraid, but I also know that we won't be facing Jenkinsville alone. David and Kathy Lowery are going to be coming with us. They are going to meet us when we land in New York and then the four of us will get on a train and go to Jenkinsville together."

"It seems like a waste of their time, though," she whispered.

"No, David said that he wanted to write another screenplay about our story, and what better way to do that than to go to the place where everything began?" He smiled. "Patty, we won't be alone while we're doing this. We have friends who will be with us and support our choices and actions. We will also have Ruth and just in that knowing, I am certain that we're both going to be alright."

She raised her head and looked at him. "I hope you're right."

Anton smiled, but leaned down and allowed his lips to brush against hers. I hope I'm right too, he thought, but with her gently in his hold, he refused to elaborate on this. Instead he took a deep breath. "Let's go and see what Mother has prepared for dinner."

Patty nodded as they walked the length of the hallway and entered the dining room.


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello and welcome to the long time coming installment to this story. I have to explain a few things to all of you as to why it was that I didn't get anything up for two months. It was not because of my 'obsessing' about another fandom or concentrating everything on something else as was implied in one of the reviews._

_The reason I did not post anything was because I didn't have anything. I was stuck on this story, and even during the past two weeks when we drove up north and bypassed Göttingen, I was able to try and figure out where I wanted this story to go from the last chapter. I could have just written 'two weeks later' and plopped them smack dab in the middle of Jenkinsville, but that would probably not have been very gratifying for you as a reader to get a 'two weeks later' notation at the top of a chapter. This story was, for all practical purposes, completely blocked. I know where I wanted it to go further down the line, but where it would go from where it had cut off was bordering on impossible. It may not make sense, but since I don't believe in posting half efforts, I was completely determined to present something that was at least as good, if not better, than the previous chapters. Here's hoping that I succeeded._

_I'm sorry that it's taken me this long to get something up, but I do hope that it was worth the wait._

_With that said, I want to add something more personal here. My husband and his parents are German, and I am drawing in a little bit from my experiences as well as dialogues I have had with my in-laws. It may perhaps make this story a bit more realistic, because I am drawing in from experiences that they might have had. For example, the little girl Deborah mentions in this chapter is my mother-in-law. She was born and grew up in Hamburg during the war._

_With that said, please be patient with me as I get these chapters written and posted. I simply do not want this story to lose its momentum, and I feared that if I had posted anything before now, that would be what happened._

_**Many, many thanks to those of you who reviewed this. Your positive comments did help in the motivation.**_

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**Chapter 6**

After dinner was over, Anton and his father retreated to the study to discuss the last-minute details of the following day. This left Patty and Deborah to clean up the dining room and wash the dishes. Neither of the women seemed to mind this task, in fact, they both seemed to welcome the chore. This would guarantee them a few moments on their own.

Essentially, Patty had, during the dinner, offered to help with the clean up, which Deborah accepted with the save grace she always seemed to emanate.

The younger woman knew that as soon as Anton and Erikson had left the table, this would grant her the opportunity to ask Deborah some questions about her experiences. She knew that her mother-in-law was from England and she concluded that this might actually help her when it came to comparing notes about past experiences.

Deep down inside, Patty figured that a conversation with Anton's mother might actually help her face what the coming days were going to bring. Even with her husband's supportive nature and unconditional love, it was clear that the young woman needed the objective opinion of another woman as opposed to overburdening her husband with her worries and concerns.

As Patty was bringing several plates into the adjoining kitchen, Deborah was standing next to the sink, her gaze momentarily staring outside through the window. Wordlessly, Patty placed the dishes in the sink and watched as Anton's mother set to work at cleaning them.

At that moment, she was instantly reminded of what Anton had said back when she had been a child. The words about the German housewife treating dirt as her mortal enemy washed over her as she found herself closing her own eyes and lowering her head.

When Deborah turned back around, she could not help but notice how Patty was deep in thought about something.

"What are you thinking about, Patty?" The words abruptly emerged as she reopened her eyes somewhat surprised. Deborah rarely called her Patty, instead she had always called her 'Patricia'. However, instead of the simple word coming off with a distanced coldness, it somehow rolled off the older woman's lips as though Patty was a piece of the world's finest china. In the back of her mind this somehow paralleled Anton's words about her being a person of value.

For whatever reason, there was something more familiar about her mother-in-law calling her by an informal and casual name, as opposed to her usual means of address. Patty had known from the first moment they had met that Deborah Reiker was a woman who was encased in elegance. Just like Hannah, Patty thought as she recalled the first moments she and Anton's sister had met on the ship coming from New York to Hamburg.

"The trip," Patty eventually mumbled. "I wasn't really thinking about anything else, actually."

"You don't want to go, do you?" Deborah asked knowingly. "I mean; it seems painfully obvious that you are only going because your father is ill and in need of medical help. Deep down inside, you are aware that something may not be right with him, and this is your way of finding closure."

"My father," she whispered with a shake of her head. "I don't know why we're doing this, I mean; he hates me."

"Do you hate him?"

"I don't know," Patty shook her head. "Maybe that's why I'm going, to find out."

"Perhaps this could be the realization that you need. You are going to see your family and there's a sense of obligation in doing what it is you have to do," she responded.

"No, that's not really it, my family is here, with Anton, you, and Erikson," she whispered. "I feel much safer here than anywhere else."

"It is very strange that a young Jewish lady would say such a thing," Deborah remarked bluntly. "Considering that I was always under the impression that you were a tad bit homesick. This is a very different life than what you had in America. You remember your life there, just as I remember my life before Erikson came and swept me off my feet."

"Do you ever miss England?" Patty asked as she noticed the smile that spread across Deborah's face at the mention of her husband.

"Of course I do, I wouldn't be human if I didn't," she said with a nod. "You see, I still have family living there; aunts, uncles, cousins, a sister, two brothers, their kids and the list goes on and on."

"Were they angry when you left?" She asked.

"Some were, it was about eight or so years before the war really started, so when we had moved here, it was what you might call routine. You see, many of my family were very angry with me for wanting to live in what they later came to refer to as 'enemy territory'," she said.

"But you still left?" Patty asked. "Why?"

"Well, a romantic would say for love, but for Erikson it was necessary for him to return to the university here. As you know from the ring that my son gave to you when you were younger, his father was president of the university for several years. His family traces back to a great many intellectual minds of the nineteenth century. From what I understood at the time, Erikson was to take over the History Department there. It was a noble enough position and given the world's economy during that time, it was a prudent idea for us to move back."

"You don't regret it?" Patty asked.

"I have Erikson, and then had Anton and Hannah, and now you, so no, I have no regrets." Deborah paused. "The question is, do you?"

"I'm glad I left," Patty said without contemplating how her words sounded. After several moments, she took a deep breath. "I do miss my sister, though, and Ruth. But, more than anything else, I realize how scared I am."

"Patty, do you miss your parents?" Deborah asked.

"What do you mean?" She countered.

"You said you missed your sister and Ruth, but do you miss your parents?" Anton's mother asked gently. "Even a little bit?"

"It's stupid, but yes, sometimes I do," Patty confessed. "I don't know if you'll understand what I mean, but sometimes I miss that sort of preconceived notion of what could have or might have been. I miss the idea of my mother appreciating who I am or my father accepting me without condition." She looked away. "It's stupid, isn't it?"

"No, it is, in fact, the wish of any young woman who has lived with a certain level of rejection in her life," she responded wisely. "Just tell me something, why is it so important to you? You know that it does not define you."

"I don't know why," she began. "What I do know is that it's like there's this emptiness inside of me that says that I didn't try hard enough or even do enough to earn it."

"Well, the way I see it, you must not earn it," Deborah said gently. "A good parent should give it freely and when they don't, then they are nothing more than the ones who brought you into this world. Somehow, deep in your heart of hearts you know that they will never be a proper mum or dad to you, and there's very little sense in having such lofty aspirations."

"With my parents you're probably right," she said miserably. "Aside from that, my father will probably have another heart attack when we show up in Jenkinsville out of the blue like this." As she spoke, she stared sadly down at her hands.

"Patty you should know that what you are doing is very brave," Deborah said.

"Maybe, but it doesn't save me from feeling confused. I mean; my conscience has been eating away at me and now that we're going back, I've been thinking about this even more than before. Based on the conversation I had with Sharon the other day, my parents still consider Anton to be their enemy. I mean; she's eighteen and has resorted to calling him cruel names and she doesn't even know him."

"I can only imagine what sort of names she selected," Deborah said, her voice resigned. "The war has been over for more than a decade, Patty, the analogy of 'us versus them' no longer applies here."

"I know that, but try telling my parents and sister that. They think that Anton did something to me that was unethical and that he forced me to move here," she said as she raised her head and looked into the blue eyes of Anton's mother. "That's basically what their last telegram said."

It was strange for her to admit these things, but somehow knowing that Deborah Reiker was not German helped her in confessing her troubles. These two women shared common ground to one another and somehow this enabled Deborah to read Patty like an open book.

Instead of elaborating on what they had been discussing, Patty went over to the small table opposite the sink. She sank down against the comfortable cushion on the wooden chair. With her elbows, she rested them against the surface of the table and allowed her eyes to close momentarily.

Deborah watched her, but eventually came over and sat down in the chair next to her and wordlessly reached over and rested her hand on Patty's shoulder. "I know how hard this is for you."

"You do?" Patty raised her head and her eyes slowly opened.

She could feel the tears stinging beneath her eyelids but willed them to stay where they were as opposed to falling. Keeping herself from crying, she could feel that a lump the size of a ping-pong ball had lodged itself in the back of her throat, thus rendering her silent.

Deborah rubbed her hands together before bringing her fingertips to her lips. "Erikson has a younger brother whose family resides in Hamburg. They never accepted me as Erikson's wife. At least not until after the war had ended. When it eventually did, we returned to Hamburg and I saw something so horrific that I could not fathom what had taken hold of the world at all. It was not just about what had happened to others of your faith, but also about the overwhelming horror and tragedy of what war is about. Anton, I am certain, conveyed to you that none of us agreed with what had happened to your people."

Patty nodded as Deborah continued speaking. "Anyway, when Anton was drafted into the army, we tried everything we could to keep him from having to go. He was young and idealistic and just starting to understand what life was about. We didn't want him to think or believe that it was just about fighting in a war that people of his generation did not understand or comprehend."

"I know," Patty said. "He told me that when we first met. He said that he was afraid, and that it wasn't brave to admit it. It's strange, but I always believed that he's the bravest man I had ever met."

Deborah nodded. "You do know that he did not want to go into the army, he wanted to study medicine." When Patty nodded she continued. "With times being what they were, it was either that or be called a traitor, face humiliation, and possibly be killed by those more fanatical than our family. The times were not kind to people of an idealistic nature and in some places, it was clear that there was no room for that at all."

"Was it because of the war happening here and not somewhere else?" Patty found her voice and asked.

"Yes, I think it did contribute to it," Deborah said softly. "You have never lived in a place where war was happening, and let's hope that you never do. I have heard stories from people, the worst was perhaps about a little girl in Hamburg during the bombing of the city. The miracle was that she survived, but I cannot even fathom what she and her family must have endured."

"I know this sounds strange, but I sort of feel responsible when stuff like that happens," Patty mused.

"You weren't, you were a child yourself," Deborah said. "No logically minded German person would blame you for what happened. It was a tragic part of the history of this country. Do take heart in the knowing that the Americans were the ones who sent care packages to German families who had lost their homes in the bombing raids. Many children received clothing and toys from those packages and that raised their morale immensely."

"It did?"

"Yes," Deborah smiled as she nodded. "It somehow made them not feel as though they were just another statistic in a war-torn reality."

"I didn't know about that."

"I would guess that not very people were aware of it, but it did happen and it showed a gave a very compassionate face to your country." She rested her hand on top of Patty's. "You're a good person, Patricia Reiker, a very good person. If there ever comes a day that you doubt that, then remember this conversation. Through that, you can embrace it, because it is the undeniable truth."

"Thank you," she whispered.

Without warning, she suddenly felt herself drawn into Deborah's arms and held in the same way she had always yearned to be held by a maternal figure. If only I could feel that same warmth from my own mother, she thought sadly as she reciprocated the embrace.

As the hold loosened, Deborah looked at Patty, her expression laced in sincerity. "Regardless of what happens when you and Anton go to America, remember that we do care for you."

"I've never doubted that," she said as the tears escaped and began to stream down over her face.

"You should also know that both Erikson and I are monumentally grateful to you for what you have done for our son. We are both completely convinced that it was you who saved Anton's life during the time following his escape. It was not just his will to live, but it was your love and support that enabled him to survive."

"I never thought about that too much. I just wanted to do what was right," she said softly. "I mean; Anton was the best friend I ever had. He talked to me and taught me things about myself that I had never known. I guess I was just a kid at the time, but I didn't want him to get hurt or killed."

"He didn't, and when he came home, our joy was so great and empowering that we had hoped you could feel it on the other side of the world. When he told us of what you had done for him, his eyes filled with tears, and he said that he wanted to find you and make sure that no one else would ever hurt you again."

"I remember when he tried to protect me from my father," Patty said all the while shaking her head. "He stood there shocked and afraid, but not able to do anything. He told me later about how Ruth had helped me into the house. I had blacked out after he started hitting me. Later, Anton said that he had been afraid for me and related to me how my father had gone into the garage and was talking to himself and saying that no one loved him." She shook her head as she stood up and turned away from the table.

After several moments, she turned back around and faced her mother-in-law. "Deborah, can you tell me why I would want to go and find closure with a man like this?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you the answer to that, Patty," she said gently.

"Then why am I going?" She asked. "Why do I even want to? Why should I even care?"

Deborah stood up and went over to where Patty was now standing. "You'll know when the time is right." She said simply, he voice laced in a firmness that reminded her of Anton when he had told her that he did not like her father.

As the two women returned to the chore of washing the dishes, even more questions seemed to ravage Patty's conscience. The main one being why they were even going.

Somehow, the safest place in the world for Patty Reiker was not Jenkinsville, but instead it was Buhlstrasse 64 in Göttingen, Germany.


	7. Chapter 7

_First of all, my apologies for the time that has lapsed since my last update here. I have been dealing with a great many real life issues this summer, and it seems like when things stop, something else happens that takes my attention from the writing. That is every time I try and work on something, then I gete distracted and am unable to post. So, I will not promise when the story will be updated, as that seems to not help matters, but I will do my best at getting the chapters written and submitted._

_Thank you for your patience and reviews.

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**Chapter 7**

It was close to ten in the evening when Patty and Anton announced that they were tired and retreated to their room. Anton had been worried much of the evening about the welfare of his wife, but nothing had been said since they had briefly spoken in the hallway earlier that evening.

The awkward silence still permeated the air as Anton closed the door and watched as Patty went over towards the window, her attention staring out through the window at the Reiker family's large and well kept garden.

From where she was standing, Patty could see the roses and marigolds that Deborah had grown from small seedlings into beautiful and well maintained flowers. Her gaze shifted to the door that led into a small shed that was situated on the back side of their property. Her thoughts began to drift as she pondered how much Anton knew about the girl from Deborah's story. After several moments of silence had passed, she concluded that he probably did know and there stood very little reason to rehash it.

Her gaze shifted back to where her husband was now standing. He seemed to be as caught up in memories as she now was. It seemed logical since they were now using Anton's old bedroom, which contained those small reminders of his youth. Perhaps it was that reason why Patty loved this room as much as she did. Somehow, it gave her an idea of what Anton had been like when he was a child.

Instead of speaking of this, she went over to where several of the models were adorning the shelf. One was a small car that looked as though it had been put together and painted by a small boy. The sides were dented in somewhat and she reached out and touched it.

"I made that when I was eight," Anton's voice emerged and she turned towards where his voice had originated. He was still standing where he had been after closing the door. "That was an interesting time."

"Maybe, but sometimes I think the past is easier to deal with than the present," she murmured softly, her hand still brushing against the dented door of the car. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Would it help if I told you that you still are courageous? You have not changed that much over the years, Patty." As he spoke, he wrapped her securely in his arms. "You just don't realize to what extent."

"Be sure to tell me that when I face my father again," she said smiling sadly as her attention diverted from him and back to the books that were rowed up along the shelves. She could see foreign language books, as well as scientific journals with German titles. Instead of continuing to speak of the inevitable meeting with her family, she asked a completely unrelated question.

"Did you always want to be a doctor, Anton?"

"I think so, but why do you ask?"

"I'm just thinking that maybe it was the part of you that is a doctor, who wants to try and save the relationship between my family and me," she said. "Some things are beyond salvation, you know."

"No, perhaps we're just in time," he said. "But, back to your question. Let me ask you something. Do you remember the house I showed you right after you arrived here?"

"Yes, you said it was your grandfather's," she nodded. "But, what does that have to do with my question?"

"Well, I remember as a child how he took ill and I wanted to help him. It was a devastating time that I would probably never forget. This was before the war had even started, and yet, somehow, I could recall almost instinctively that I wanted nothing more than to be able to cure him," he took a deep breath.

"Taking away his illness and making him better?" Patty asked.

"Exactly right," he said smiling sadly.

For some reason, these words somehow reminded Patty of the day they had first met. This time the intonation of them was different then it had been when she was a child. Now, their cadence seemed much more profound than the discussions of pocket pencil sharpeners or pads of paper. She took a deep breath as she glanced towards the window.

Somehow she did not feel like discussing his grandfather's illness. She did not carry the same emotional ties to her father as he did to his grandfather. In fact, if truth were known, she didn't much care. Yet, how could she say those words to her husband when it was he who specialized in the saving of lives?

"What are you thinking about now?" His voice abruptly broke into her thoughts.

"I'm remembering when we met and something you said during that brief moment," she said honestly. "I'm wondering if this is such a good idea. Maybe we shouldn't have decided to go back there."

"If you don't, then you'll wonder every day how your father is doing and live in regret of what you could have done but didn't," Anton said. "I know you, and even if he treats us like trash, at least you will know conscientiously that you didn't do anything wrong and that you tried to rectify things with him in the best way you could."

Patty wrapped her arms around him and looked up into the familiar gray colored eyes that she had grown to love. "You seem so certain about that."

"I know you, that's all the certainty I need," he said gently. "I know you're afraid, but think of it this way, you are doing something for another person."

"My father?" She asked.

"No, Liebling, your sister," Anton said.

"But, Anton, she doesn't like you," Patty whispered.

"She doesn't know me, she may know of me through the words of others, but you know that that is not the same thing," he said calmly. "Give her some time to learn the truth, and if she still has her heart set on hating me, then there will be nothing that either of us can do that will change her mind."

Patty thought about what he had said and nodded. "How did you get so smart anyway?" She asked.

"It's not so much about me being smart, my love, it's about being patient with those who have only learned ignorance and not truth. Once she knows the truth, then she will have a choice; to ignore or embrace it. That's not so much as being smart, it's just, what do you call it? Common sense."

Patty looked at him. "I'm more scared for you than I am for me."

Anton wrapped her in his arms and looked down at her. "That is a sweet gesture, but consider this, we will be together and this time I won't leave you, I promise."

She nodded in his embrace, but after several moments, she raised her head. "You know, the first time I came into this house, I was reminded of the time that you told me about your father and his library. It's like everything that is said or even contemplated somehow reminds me of something from the past, from that time, even if it seems like the most insignificant detail in the world."

"It's not insignificant Patty," he said gently. "So long as it comes from your heart. Who was it that said: 'The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched ... but are felt in the heart'?"

"Was it Emerson?" She asked softly.

"No, I believe it was Helen Keller who said that," he said smiling.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

Anton nodded and instead of responding to her words, he led her over to the bed and sat down on the edge. "Let's get some sleep, tomorrow will be here before we know it and we're going to have to be on the road by six."

Nodding, she went over to where he was seated, but for some reason, she knew that sleep would not come easily.

* * *

At that same moment Patty and Anton were speaking of the pending trip, Sharon Bergen was sitting at Ruth's kitchen table with the telegram resting lazily in her hands. She had been lulling over the words printed on the simple pink colored page since she had been made aware of its arrival. It had been addressed to Ruth, but the moment it had arrived, the heavyset woman had left her home in order to go into town and find Sharon.

Upon finding her at the house, she conveyed to the teenager that she needed to speak with her about something of an urgent nature and that she should come with her. Neither of the girl's parents had been around, which saved her from any possible confrontation. Of course, Ruth Hughes had worked for the family long enough to know that mid-afternoon was the busiest time at the store and that was the safest moment for her to show up.

With this knowledge in mind, Ruth could drop her news on the teenager without any sort of interruption from the parents.

As the teenager followed her to her much smaller house on the outskirts of town, Ruth contemplated how she would tell the teenager of the telegram that had arrived earlier that day. It was clear that the girl had much on her mind, so the information would have to be given in a gentle sort of manner.

At the same instance, it was clear that Ruth had indicated the urgency of the moment, and perhaps it was Sharon's knowing that Ruth never lied that motivated her to come in the first place. Of course, this did not detract from the teenager's nervousness. What could have happened that would make Ruth come to the house to find her?

Upon arriving, they had retreated to the kitchen, where Sharon immediately spotted the stenciled typeface on the kitchen table. As Ruth picked up the slip of paper and handed it to her, Sharon felt a lump growing in her throat as she read that her sister and 'what's his name' would be arriving in town by the middle of the following week.

Instead of things being as she had hoped or anticipated, and having her sister come alone, she had made it clear that she would be bringing her husband with her.

_

* * *

Ruth,_

_Anton and I will be arriving in Jenkinsville on the fourteenth (stop)._

_Patty_

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"I can't believe that they're actually coming," she whispered more to herself than to Ruth.

"That's what the note says," Ruth responded with a nod of her head.

"I wanted her to come alone, though, not with him," Sharon muttered.

"Yes, but honey, we've already talked about this." Ruth said wisely. "Acceptin' Patty now means ya gotta accept her husband too."

"Would you stop calling him that?" Sharon snapped.

"Oh honey babe, I can't stop calling Anton that, anymore than I can stop callin' you Sharon. That's what he is, Honey Babe, he's her husband," Ruth responded.

"But, Ruth, my parents don't know about them coming," she said. "I just know that this is going to positively kill Daddy."

"Or it could very well be his salvation," Ruth said casually.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I ain't no doctor, and am not 'bout to start making no predictions, but it seems that your daddy is in need of somethin' that ain't gonna add to his condition. Makin' peace with your sister may be just what he needs to help his heart to heal," Ruth said firmly. "If he ain't yet ready to make peace with her now, then how do you spose he will be able to handle whatever the future may bring? You ain't gonna resolve nothing if you're like an ostrich and go 'bout sticking your head in a hole in the ground."

"Is that what he's doing?" Sharon asked.

"I don't know, baby, but I do knows that if he ain't ready to talk to your sister, then if he is plannin' to go meet his maker, then he ain't gonna be ready for that either," she said.

"Mother and Daddy are going to have a fit when they find out about this, though," Sharon said.

"Maybe, but you and I both knows that they'll eventually find out, and there ain't nothing they'll be able to do 'bout it. Your sister is a grown woman. Now, either you can prepare them for a visit, or you can play the ostrich yourself and let this surprise drag you all down."

"But they're coming because of me, because I asked," Sharon whispered. "I mean; Ruth, I'm the one who called her."

"I knows that honey," the wise woman said. "Now, all you gotta to do is break the news to your folks."

"How?" Sharon asked.

"Honesty can move a mountain, baby," Ruth said gently.

"Perhaps, but you know how my daddy's temper is, he's going to have a complete fit about this," Sharon said. "That is if it doesn't land him back in the hospital."

"Perhaps, but then it'll be his problem now, won't it?" Ruth asked.

Sharon looked at her, the young girl's eyes taking on a nervous look. It seemed as though everything that was happening to her was now careening out of her control. Patty was coming and she was bringing this man with her.

Biting down on her lip, she could do nothing except stare blankly at the telegram and shake her head. "What should I do? I mean; how can I tell them?"

"That's up to you, Sharon, but you the one who wanted her to come back, and now you's gotta do what you 'sposed to do," Ruth said as the door opened and shut.

"Momma, I'm home." Robert's voice emerged and he appeared in the doorway of the room where they were sitting and talking.

"How'd it go?" Ruth asked, but turned to Sharon. "Robert here was doin' the Lord's work at the ol' folks home today."

"Yep, and I gotta tell ya that Mrs. Sanderson makes the best cherry cobber I ever tasted. It was like a piece of heaven with whipped cream on top," Robert smirked as his gaze met that of his mother. "Okay, Momma, the second best cherry cobbler in the world."

Ruth chuckled as Robert came over to the table, his gaze coming to rest on the slip of paper that was still in Sharon's hand.

"What's that?" He asked.

"My sister is coming back," Sharon said dully.

"No kidding, it's really strange, Momma, but the last time I saw Patty Bergen, she was a skinny kid wearing shorts and playin' in the mud."

"She's not a kid anymore, Honey, she's all grown up and married to a fine man," Ruth said smiling. Instead of noticing the look that crossed Sharon's face, her attention was on her son, who had gone over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of milk.

"All grown up huh," Robert said as he pulled off the lid and started looking for a glass. "Well what do ya know?"

Sharon took a deep breath as she looked down at her hands. "Yeah, what do you know?" She whispered more to herself than to them.


	8. Chapter 8

_Here's the latest chapter of the story. Here's hoping that you enjoy it. I was a tiny bit stuck and then last week while on my way to Jena, I had a burst of inspiration that would connect some of this together._

_Hope you all enjoy this.

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**Chapter 8**

It was late in the afternoon when Sharon returned home. Reaching the front door, she pondered whether or not anyone would have cared where she had spent the afternoon. In her pocket, she carried the telegram that Patty had sent to the Hughes house. She figured that her parents already knew that she periodically spent her afternoons with Ruth, but she was not sure how they would take her having gorged herself with homemade pastries and guzzling down fresh milk, while exchanging anecdotes with a Christian preacher and his mother.

It was for that reason that coming back home did not calm her nerves a single bit. In fact, Sharon was simply not certain if she should even could broach the subject of her sister coming back to Jenkinsville with her parents at all. It seemed abundantly clear that this was not going to be an easy task at all.

The truth was, she was scared. One look down at her hands and seeing them trembling uncontrollably was all the proof she needed. She would have to tell them, or else Patty and Anton would show up in town and all hell would break loose.

Ruth had been right about one thing and that was that Sharon herself was highly prejudiced against Anton. She had been since the day her mother had told her that Patty had run off from Atlanta and taken a ship to Germany without so much as asking them for permission.

Instead of responding to her mother's assertions, Sharon opted to staying silent and not reminding her mother that Patty was twenty-four-years-old, and beyond asking parental permission for leaving town. After all, as an adult, Patty could do as she pleased.

Of course, the questions remained in her mind as to what sort of person this Anton Reiker was. Her mother had called him a 'Nazi' so many times that she had adapted herself to that descriptor as well.

The question remained engraved in her mind: How could a Jew fall in love and marry a German? She pondered this question so often that she thought that she would surely go insane. Essentially, she had become so accustomed to people's prejudices that she had become prejudiced herself.

She walked through the kitchen where the housekeeper was making stew. It smelled remotely like dirty socks and garlic, but she refrained from commenting. She looked around the room and felt an immense sadness washing over her. Her parents had hired this woman because she was more like them and less like Ruth, so it was clear from the onset that she could not speak with this particular woman in the relaxed manner she used when speaking to Ruth. The relaxed atmosphere that she recalled as a small child seemed to be gone. The concoction that this woman was preparing somehow depicted that assertion tenfold.

"Hello Miss Sharon," the woman spoke, her voice carrying a formal, almost too formal, edge.

"Hello, Miss St John," the teenager said as she offered a half wave. "Are my parents home yet?"

The woman shook her head. "No, they have not yet arrived, but your father said that he had a consultation at the doctor's office after the store had closed for the day. Your mother went to Wynne City to have her hair done."

Sharon nodded as she recalled the conversations that had taken place over the breakfast table. Her parents had spoken of those plans and somehow she had forgotten. For some reason, it seemed as though she was forgetting a great deal since the news of her sister's return had come down.

If anything, this began her to thinking that perhaps she could call Patty and ask her not to come. Her parents would never know since all the times she had called Germany, she had phoned with reverse charges. Patty had accepted the first time she had called and the telegram did say that she was arriving on the fourteenth.

That was still a week away.

If she played her cards right, then the following morning would allot her plenty of time to talk her sister out of coming. If they did not come, then she would not be on the receiving end of her father's wrath and her mother's contempt. Sharon knew that she was persuasive enough, and she knew that she could convince Patty against coming.

Instead of going down the hall to her bedroom, she crept though the living room and into the study. From there, she closed the door and looked around, before crossing the room so as to pick up the telephone and dialed the operator.

Once she had managed this, she began to speak. "I need to make a collect call to Hildesheim, Germany." She then gave the operator the number and waited for them to connect the call. When they did, all she heard was the sound of the phone ringing and ringing. When no one answered the operator's voice came back on the line.

"I'm sorry, but no one seems to be picking up right now," she said. "Is there anything else I can do or you?"

"No, thank you," Sharon said and hung the phone. Perhaps it was better that way because then at least no one would come home and catch her in the act of trying to contact her sister.

She inched her way slowly out of the study and made her way back to her bedroom. Closing herself in, she crossed the room and found herself sitting down on the bed and staring outside through the window.

After several minutes, the sound of her mother's voice filled her ears. "Sharon, dinner."

Instead of immediately responding, she got up off the bed and started to make her way out of the room and in the direction of the living room. Time sure has a way of flying when I'm trying to do something behind mother and father's back, she thought, but managed to swallow before calling out a halfhearted response. "Coming!"

She got to her feet, and made her way towards the door. Opening it, she slowly made her way down the hall in the direction of the dining room. Entering the room, she could see that her father was already present and seated at the table. His head was slightly lowered as though he was exhausted, but Sharon somehow knew exactly what his intentions were. He was trying to inconspicuously sneak a smoke before his wife would come in and catch him in the act.

Instead of focusing any further attention on her father, her gaze shifted and she noticed that the table was covered with silverware, plates, bowls, and glasses. The serving bowls were filled with mashed potatoes, green beans, and fried chicken. Taking a deep breath, Sharon remembered that she was still full from her visit at Ruth's house. Perhaps her father's actions would somehow divert the focus away from her.

When Pearl Bergen came into the room, she spoke. "What are you doing, Harry?" Her question emerged, and Sharon found herself suddenly staring at her father. As if by impulse, Harry sat up, his body erect as though he was a soldier being called to attention. His movements completely ceased and he looked over at the doorway where his wife was now standing.

"You shouldn't scare me like that," he snapped.

"Perhaps I wouldn't have to if I knew that you weren't trying to sneak a smoke every time I have my back turned," Pearl said haughtily. "You know perfectly well what Dr. Henderson said about you smoking."

"Are you going to preach at me again, Pearl?" Harry shot back. "I mean; you know perfectly well that the issues at the store are a lot more hazardous to my health than a cigarette. You never nagged me about working since it guarantees you the life to which you have grown accustomed."

"That's not true," she said as she pointed a perfectly manicured fingernail at her husband. "I simply don't fancy being a widow before I'm 55."

Sharon silently watched as her father dug in his pocket and extracted something that resembled a Lucky Strike Cigarette package. After a second had passed, she jumped when he slammed the package onto the table and started to reach for the nearest bowl of food. That turned out to be the mashed potatoes, which to the teenager remotely resembled building putty.

"Happy now?" He snapped, his voice rising in hostility as he regarded his wife. When Sharon did not turn away, he looked at her. "What? Are you going to nag me too?"

"No sir," she said softly and reached for the bowl of green beans and began to scoop out a portion of them.

Ever since her father had taken ill, life at the Bergen home was hell. When her father wasn't yelling at her or her mother, then her mother was treating him as though he was a fragile as an eggshell, which only upset him. This was a vicious cycle, and she was left to ponder what would ultimately happen when her sister came home.

She watched as her parents shot angry glares back and forth at one another and she sighed sadly. It was stupid idea, and Patty would be a fool to show up now, she concluded.

The most disturbing of her questions still remained: How could she have done that to her parents? As messed up as her family life now was, Sharon Bergen knew that this was not going to work at all.

Ruth was wrong, she thought sadly, this would only succeed in putting her father back into the hospital instead of helping him to find healing.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to shovel in a bite of the mashed up green beans. The taste was just as she feared…terrible. Despite her grandest efforts, she found herself sticking out her tongue in the most unladylike manner imaginable. This, somehow distracted her mother from hassling her father long enough to shoot her a disapproving glare.

"Sharon, not at the table," she snapped. "One would think we didn't teach you any manners at all."

"Sorry," she whispered as she got up and left the room quickly. What she did not realize was that in her haste, the telegram from Patty that Ruth had given to her was now lying on the seat of her chair untouched. She did not notice anything but her father most certainly did.

"What's that?" Harry asked as his gaze came to rest on the pick colored slip of paper.

"What?" Pearl asked.

"That," Harry pointed and watched as she went over to her daughter's chair and retrieved the object.

Once she held it in her hand, she raised her head. "From the looks of it, it looks like a telegram," Pearl said. "But who would be sending Sharon a telegram? Our family is all here." Instead of speaking further, she began to read the faded script.

"What does it say?" Harry asked.

"It's addressed to Ruth," Pearl said.

"Ruth? Why the hell would there be a telegram addressed to Ruth here?" He demanded. When Pearl did not respond, he continued speaking. "We fired her more than a decade ago."

"I know that, Harry," Pearl said. "But, I guess you should know that Sharon still has contact with her now and again."

"Against our wishes," Harry grumbled.

"Perhaps it is, but the fact remains that Sharon is eighteen now and she has the right to be friends with whomever she wishes."

"Not as long as she is living under our roof," he mumbled. "If she wants to live here, then she will have to live by our rules."

"Yes, and alienate her like we did with Patricia?" Pearl asked.

Harry went silent, but instead of responding to her words, he took a deep breath. "So, what does it say?"

"I'll tell you, Harry, but you need to stay calm," she said.

"Just tell me what the hell it says," Harry responded dully.

"It says that Patricia is coming back to Jenkinsville," she said.

Harry stood up, the napkin that was on his lap, he tossed onto the table, his eyes widening in shock and anger. "What?" His voice resonated about the house, thus bringing Sharon back into the room.

When the teenager saw the telegram in her mother's hand, she swallowed and waited for the inevitable to happen. She watched as her father took a deep breath. "What else does it say?" He asked.

"It's a telegram, not a letter, Harry. Basically it says that she and Anton will be arriving in Jenkinsville on the fourteenth," Pearl said.

"Well, I can tell you one thing, she and that Nazi friend of hers are not welcome here," Harry shouted.

"Now Harry, watch your blood pressure," Pearl said soothingly.

Harry turned and looked at his daughter, his eyes practically bulging as he looked at his youngest daughter. "When did you intend on telling us this bit of news?" He snapped as he started towards her.

Instead of speaking, Sharon shook her head as she backed slowly away from him and looked at her mother. "Ruth told me this afternoon that Patty was coming back to visit."

"Was that all?" Pearl asked sharply.

"Yes, ma'am," Sharon lied. Instead of speaking further, she quickly fled from the room.


	9. Chapter 9

_Hello and welcome to the next installment of this story. For those of you who don't know, I had intended on posting another update to this story upon my return from the US, but what happened was I got sick and was out of commission for eight days. I am sorry about that and I wanted to let you know that I did not have any intentions of dropping this story. It is just that sometimes real life has a tendency to make mincemeat of well thought out intentions._

_At any rate, here is the latest installment. Here's hoping that you continue to enjoy the story. Many thanks for your comments and reviews._

_Enjoy.

* * *

_

**Chapter 9**

While Sharon Bergen was experiencing her own issues with the pending visit, Patty and Anton had quickly realized the fact that time had a tendency to go much quicker than either anticipated or expected. The morning after waking at his parents' home, the young couple dressed and were taken to a train station to board a passenger train bound for Frankfurt. This would bring them to the airport on the southwest sectors of the large city within the coming five hours.

All of this after having experienced a massively endless night. Patty had spent much of it tossing and turning. Her thoughts had been consumed with the words Deborah had told her as well as what she and her husband had spoken of just before turning in.

Now, just about every word she spoke was interrupted by a yawn, and a nervous remark about not having consumed enough coffee back at her in-laws' house.

The airport was housed in a large building. As they climbed the stairs into the terminal, Anton noticed that his sister was standing and waiting next to a large placard which was, in fact, the timetable display for all the flights. Every so often it would flip about, the clattering of plastic numbers somehow in sync with Patty's nervous anticipation.

As she stared transfixed at it, Anton waved to his sister before gently leading Patty over to where she stood. Hannah smiled, approached and she greeted each of them with a hug.

"Hey you guys," she smiled. "Gosh it's so great to see you again." She looked at Patty, who was wringing her hands together nervously. Instead of speaking, she regarded her brother. "Maybe before you go check in, we should get something for you to eat. After all, Patty here looks as though she will not be able to survive if she has to wait several hours to get something substantial."

Anton nodded in agreement. "Perhaps that's not a bad idea. Let's eat something first, and then we can go check in."

Hannah led them through the terminal building and when they found a small café, Anton went to order them something, while the two women found a table and sat down. "You look like you're about to jump out of your skin," Hannah remarked.

"Is it that obvious?" Patty asked.

"I'd be a fool not to notice it," Hannah said.

"You must think I'm crazy," the younger woman whispered.

"No, actually crazy isn't the word to describe what you guys are doing, admirable seems more applicable."

"Admirable?" Patty whispered, as she lowered her head. "I've never been so scared in my life, Hannah."

"I can tell, but your parents are either going to accept you or they're not, there really no other alternative but that. No matter what it is you do, that's how it's going to be. You can't change them, but you can make amends with yourself and your feelings," Hannah said.

"You make it sound like it's easy," Patty said, her voice laced in sadness.

"I know it's not easy for you to go back and reconcile your feelings with them. It's also not easy for Anton to go back and see the place that reminded him of what it was like to be a prisoner. But, maybe whatever the future will bring, it will help you both to find closure with what happened twelve years ago."

"I don't know anymore," Patty's frustration emerged as her words filled Hannah's ears. "I just keep seeing my father's angry face filtering through my mind. Then I remember the day when Sharon called and said that he had been rushed to the hospital…" her voice trailed. "…Oh Hannah, how am I going to face this?"

"With courage," Hannah said simply. "With the very same courage that you faced coming to Germany to find Anton and not knowing if he was alive or dead. Or perhaps that which enabled you to hide and protect him when you were a mere child. You did all those things, so going back and facing your family should be a piece of cake for you."

"Piece of cake?" Patty whispered sadly. "If only it were."

"Maybe it is," Hannah said. "I mean; you did not exactly leave on the best of terms, not that I expect any less. I mean; your family has not exactly been cordial with my brother."

"I take it Anton showed you the telegrams that my parents sent," Patty mused.

"Yeah, and he showed me the letter too."

The letter.

Patty had completely forgotten the letter that Pearl had written to her several weeks after they had sent word that Anton and Patty were getting married. The entire three page letter had been laced in hurtful accusations and threats of disownment if she did not reconsider. 'If you marry that treacherous man, then don't even think that you can return to Jenkinsville and receive a warm welcome. You have betrayed your family when you went off and got yourself hitched to that Nazi scum. You have behaved in the manner of a whore, and today your father utters the prayers of the dead over you.'

Patty shivered as she looked across the table at her sister-in-law. "How could I have forgotten that?"

As her question emerged, Anton returned to the table with several wrapped sandwiches in his hands. He seated himself at the table as her next words emerged. "This is a mistake, I just know it."

Shaking his head, he released the sandwiches and enfolded her hand in both of his. "Everything will be alright, Liebling," he whispered softly.

"How do you know?" Patty whispered.

"Easy, I know you," he said.

"But, Anton, you know what my mother said after we got married. They intended on disowning me. I can't help but question why we are even going back, why should we even bother."

Instead of speaking, he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers, his eyes filled with love. "Because, there is nothing worse than living with regret. I know all about that, Patty, and I wanted to prevent you from having to endure it. That's why we are going. Once we get to New York and you see David and Kathy, I think you'll discover exactly how much courage you posses. Besides, with them coming with us to Jenkinsville, then you won't exactly be alone."

"Maybe, but one thing is clear to me," Patty whispered.

"What's that?" Hannah asked.

"I can't help but wonder if since they don't want me anymore if Sharon will even want to take over the store when my father can't work anymore. I can't imagine her wanting that sort of responsibility at her age."

"Do you think that is what they are doing?" Anton asked. "Planning your sister to one day take over?"

"Well, that's sort of what Ruth implied in her last letter," Patty said. "She said that Sharon mentioned it, but only in passing."

Hannah reached for one of the sandwiches and slipped it into her sister-in-law's hand. "Well, whatever happens, you do have family here, and when this adventure is over, then you can come back." She smiled. "Patty, your family is crazy to have rejected you. You're a good person and they clearly don't deserve you."

Instead of speaking, Patty nodded as she carefully unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite, the food somehow sticking to the roof of her mouth.

* * *

Sharon had spent a sleepless night alone in her room. She had refused to emerge from the security of it until her parents had both left the house and gone to the store. The minute her father's plodding footsteps had faded in the corridor or her mother's voice was no longer detectable, she quietly slipped out of her room and cast a glance down the hall.

She was not sure about what to do, but she guessed that with the time difference between the United States and Germany that her sister would be home and she could talk her out of taking this trip.

It had been a mistake, she thought sadly to herself. Now, maybe she could make things right for her parents by calling her sister and persuading her against taking the trip.

She shuddered as she remembered her father's angry face from the night before. She wanted things to be as they had once been, but knew that somehow they could not be.

If only Patty had not married Anton Reiker.

The house was now quiet, and for that, Sharon was grateful. She wanted nothing more than to use the time to sneak another collect call to Germany before anyone discovered what it was she was doing.

With padded footsteps, she crept from the safety of her bedroom and went down the hallway. The smell of bacon and eggs could be detected from where she was, but ignoring that, she continued towards her father's now empty den.

As soon as she reached the heavy wooden door, she snuck into the room and quietly closed it behind her. The pungent odor of cigarettes left an almost uninviting sensation on her. Trying to ignore her now stinging nose, she reached the telephone, and quickly dialed the operator's extension. As she seated herself on the leather sofa, she prepared herself to give the same number she had dialed only two weeks before.

Once she had given the number to the operator, she waited. That had been the easy part, she thought as the telephone began to chime, the sounds of the ringing distinctly different to her eighteen-year-old ears.

"Reiker?" Abruptly emerged a mature and masculine sounding voice. The accent was unlike any she had ever heard and filled her ear in a strange cadence.

"This is a collect call from Sharon Bergan, would you accept the charges?" The operator asked in a no-nonsense voice.

"Of course," the man said and the operator all but vanished, thus leaving a very intimidated Sharon in their wake.

She swallowed and tried to find her voice. "I-I need to speak with Patty."

"I'm sorry, she's not here," the man said kindly. "May I take a message for her?"

"I-is t-this Anton?" Sharon stammered.

"No, this is his father," he said. "I came by to collect their mail and pick up Minka. You see, my dear, Anton and Patricia left early this morning for Frankfurt. They should be on their way to America as we speak."

"They can't come," Sharon blurted out without thinking. "It was a mistake."

"I'm sorry?" Erikson asked, his voice the epitome of calmness. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you are saying."

"It was a mistake," she managed to repeat her last words. "They shouldn't come here, I mean; we have to stop them from coming. If they show up here it will kill my daddy, I just know it."

"Do try and calm yourself," he said calmly. "It is my experience that an estranged family member who returns has never caused the passing of another."

"You don't understand," Sharon whispered. "My daddy is sick, he has something wrong with his heart."

"I know all about that, but perhaps it is you who does not fully understand," he responded. Instead of waiting for her to respond, he continued. "You did call your sister and ask her to return home, did you not?"

"Yeah, and now she's coming…with…"

"…Her husband," Erikson finished for her.

"He can't come here," she whispered.

"May I make an inquiry, Sharon?" He asked formally.

"I guess."

"Have you a boyfriend?" He asked.

"N-no," she responded. "I did once, but he was a jerk."

"Alright, remember when you were dating him, did you want him to leave when your parents were upset?" He asked.

"Not really," she confessed. She remembered how she had once held her former boyfriend's arm when her father was angry with her for having left the cash box at the store unattended.

"Well, you see, when a young person marries, then it is expected of their partner to be with them during these dramatic moments. Would your father have gone through any life-changing experiences without your mother's presence?"

"No, I mean; when he was at the hospital, she went with him. She was there the whole time, too," Sharon admitted.

"Yes, and to expect otherwise would be false, would it not?" He asked.

When she did not respond, he continued speaking. "I know that perhaps you have fears about meeting Anton face to face. You have no doubt heard the stories about him, what had transpired during the war time."

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Yet, now you do understand that there is a deeper love that exists between him and your sister, but my child, you will discover that your fears of him are not justified. You have consciously chosen to dislike him based on where he is from, have you not?"

"What makes you so certain that you know me?" She asked, her voice laced in indignation. "You only know what Patty might have said."

"Just as you only know Anton based on what your parents have said," he said wisely. "I know that you are afraid of meeting him. Perhaps what terrifies you is the possibility that you might actually like him. If that does come to pass, then you may be forced to do the unthinkable."

"W-what do you mean?"

"You may find yourself in a position where you must choose between your parents and your sister," he said gently.

Upon hearing the truth in his words, Sharon closed her eyes as the tears escaped from beneath the lids. Contrary to everything that she had said to Ruth or her parents, it was very clear that this man had guessed her feelings with complete accuracy. "What should I do?" She asked softly.

"I cannot tell you that, Sharon," he said honestly. "I can only tell you that for as much fear and uncertainty that you are presently carrying, the burden that your sister is under could magnify that by ten."

Instead of offering any audible response, Sharon began to cry softly, the soft sounds of her sobs detectable over the line.

"Take care," he said kindly.

Seconds later, Sharon returned the telephone receiver to the cradle and tried unsuccessfully to wipe the still persistent tears away with the sleeve of her dress.


	10. Chapter 10

_Hi everyone. First of all sorry that it has taken half of forever for me to post an update to this. I had every intention of writing some over Christmas, but then things got a bit crazy here and I didn't get a chance to work on it at all. Being someone who prefers to write somewhat consistently, I discovered that I would prefer to write something good and post it as opposed to just posting something and hoping for the best._

_A couple of things about this update. The word 'Suddeutsche Zeitung' is the Southern German Newspaper and a popular periodical here. 'Liebling' again means beloved and as for the passengers who travel by plane during the 1950's, it was a thing of great significance and in Germany people who flew during this time period would dress up, thus the line about that in the chapter. Since we are in the 1950's, I am trying to keep things consistent with that time period._

_I was trying really hard to not rush this, but I didn't want to write an eight hour flight conversation…hope that's okay. Enjoy and thanks for the patience.

* * *

_

**Chapter 10**

After saying goodbye to Hannah, Anton and Patty made their way through the security checkpoint and walked down a long corridor in the direction of the gate. As they walked, she looked at him, her eyes filled with apprehension. "Anton, do you think that there will be any problems with you getting into the country?" She asked nervously.

"I think not," he said as he reached over and squeezed her shoulder gently. "After all, the war ended some twelve years ago and based on what I can ascertain, they have no further claim on me. Perhaps we ought not worry about it."

"I can't help but worry," she said softly. "My mind has been consumed since we got the tickets and planned this trip. It's not going to be a wonderful vacation, it's going to be stress without end and I don't know if I can handle it without going mad."

"I know and I do understand, but worrying excessively is not going to help any of us. It is only going to succeed in giving you an ulcer, and with all the things that have been happening, you really do not need that right now. Whatever happens with your family is simply going to happen, regardless of how much emphasis you put on it. Just remember, my dearest, you will have people standing by you and supporting you through this. So no matter what your father may dish out, you will have the balance with Ruth, David, Kathy and me." He offered an encouraging smile.

"I know you're right, Anton, but I've never been this scared in my life," she whispered as they reached a large open waiting area. Wading through the room, they took a seat near the doorway that would mark the beginning of their journey. After several moments of silence, Anton reached over and enfolded her hand in both of his.

"We're going to be alright, P.R.," he whispered all the while intentionally using her initials as he had done when she was younger.

As she heard this, she was instantly reminded of the words he had said back at the hideout. Memories washed over her as she remembered the conversation they had shared after her father had brutally assaulted her. She swallowed but looked down at where his left hand encircled her right one.

Without warning, tears caught in her eyes and she sat starting down at the simple gold wedding band that hugged the ring finger on her right hand. She smiled weakly as she stared down at where their hands were still joined. Somehow this simple gesture reminded her that for the first time in her life, she was truly not alone in these endeavors and that whatever was to happen Anton would not be powerless.

He would protect her this time.

In lieu of words, she rested her head against his shoulder, the softness of his jacket acting as a cushion to her now damp face. They sat this way for several minutes until the flight number had been called out and they began to collect their luggage before boarding the large aircraft.

Patty was somewhat calmer when they reached the door of the aircraft and boarded. Elegantly dressed men and women were making their way towards their seats, thus reminding her of how plain she probably looked. Air travel, she reminded herself was somehow reserved for the wealthy, and so the people would dress with some semblance of elegance.

She ran her hand down over the dress she wore and after their bags had been stowed, they sat down and waited. Anton had been right about one thing, she thought as she buckled herself in. The inevitable was going to happen, and there was very little she could do about it.

* * *

The flight from Frankfurt to New York lasted close to eight hours, which the couple spent the bulk of the time either sleeping or reading a newspaper. Anton would read the headlines in _Suddeutsche Zeitung_ while Patty would busy herself skimming the headlines in _The New York Times_. She was still nervous, but after some time, she decided that she should try and get some sleep so as to combat the jetlag that she would no doubt get from such an extensive trip.

Eventually, after she had allowed the newspaper to fall to the ground, Patty leaned up against Anton's side. Seconds later, she felt him take her securely his arms and allowed her to rest against his chest. There, she could hear his steady heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

"Anton," she whispered his name as she allowed her eyes to fall closed.

"I'm here, Liebling," he whispered gently as he rubbed his hand gently through her hair. "Just rest now and we'll be landing in no time." He watched over her as she drifted off to sleep.

Once she did, Anton had adequate time to think about that, which they were going to face in the coming days. There was no love loss between Harry Bergen and himself. In fact, Anton knew that Patty's father despised him and that this was taking everything out of him. This trip would be the hardest thing the former P.O.W. had ever encountered.

After all, he would be facing a past that he had no idea he would be able to contend with. Thankfully, he would be able to forget about it momentarily during the days they would spend in New York before boarding a train bound for Memphis, Tennessee.

As much as Patty feared what would happen when they arrived, Anton was also fearful. Going back to the United States did not seem a happy event, but as he glanced down at his slumbering wife, he ran his hand gently through her hair and inhaled slowly. She needs closure, he thought as he closed his eyes, just as I do.

Seconds later, he was sound asleep, his body leaning against her and his arms protectively holding her.

* * *

Several hours later, Patty shifted in his arms and wearily opened her eyes. When she saw her husband holding her, she smiled weakly and waited as he, too, began to shift around in the small seat. Seconds later, he managed to sit up and smiled down at her.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked.

She smiled slightly. "Well, you were my pillow, so I guess I slept fine."

"Glad to be of some use to you, my dear," he smiled impishly as his thoughts began to drift back to the things that he had been contemplating before he had fallen asleep.

Eventually, Patty's voice broke into his thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked as she rubbed her face and shifted in her seat. "You look as though you have about as much on your mind as I do."

"Perhaps I do, but Patty, you really should not worry about me," he said softly.

"I can't help it," she responded. "You're my husband and I think you're as worried about my family's reaction as I am. I don't think that they have forgotten what happened before. I mean; I know that I cannot forget about it. I don't want to forget how we met or that it even happened."

"I know what you mean," he said gently. "To be honest, I don't want to forget either. I still can't help but remember the night I left the hideout the very last time. It was the first time you ever told me that you loved me."

"I did, I mean; I really do love you," she said softly. Without hesitating, she reached over and touched his cheek. As she stroked his face, she smiled. "All this time, I just knew it, and there was no room for doubt, regret, or anything. I knew that I would give my life for you. I know it sounds sort of strange for me to say it now, but there are moments when I stop and think about all of this, and I wonder, would I be able to make that sort of 'vow' to any member of my family."

"Maybe in a way you are doing that," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you are making peace with your past, so maybe you are making some concessions to your father after everything that has happened," he began. "Regardless of what anyone says or does, the one who is going to benefit from doing this is you. You will find peace in going and whatever happens to your father, you will have absolutely no rationale or basis for regret."

"That's why you were so insistent about us making this trip, right?"

He nodded as he pulled her into his arms and held her. "I know about regret and how hard it is to live with. I know that I would prefer to not face this part of my past, but I need to find some semblance of peace, too."

She snuggled closer to him. "The strangest thing is how it all seems as though it happened only yesterday?"

"Yes," he said as their plane touched down and was taxiing to the terminal gate.

Without thinking, she turned and looked outside to see the early afternoon sky of New York City. Instead of speaking, she yawned.

"In the next few hours we will be at David and Kathy's place and there you will be able to get some rest," Anton said softly. "Sitting up and trying to sleep is not a proper means of getting rest."

Patty nodded but shifted her weight. Anton was right, sleeping in such a strange position was perhaps not the very best thing for her to have done as it rendered her back stiff. She moaned softly, as she tried to shift the kinks out.

"Are you alright?" Anton asked upon hearing this.

"I think so, I just slept strangely and now my back is a little bit sore," she said as the fasten seatbelt sign was switched off and they began to retrieve their belongings and started to make their way down the corridor to disembark the aircraft.

It only took a half an hour to make it through customs as well as passport controls. Much to both of their surprise and relief, no one at any of the custom checkpoints said anything about Anton having been a P.O.W. more than twelve years before. If they had, they did not pursue or threaten him with incarceration. Perhaps the fact that he was married to a US citizen made the whole ordeal much easier for both of them.

Once they had retrieved the rest of their luggage, they left the restricted area and Anton led her through the sliding glass door and out into the large reception area. Several people stood holding signs with names stenciled across them, but no one approached them. In fact, the overall essence of the place reminded Patty of the reception area where Anton had found her upon her arrival in Germany several months back.

For a moment, she was caught up in her memories. That is until someone from behind cleared their throat and offered her shoulder a gentle nudge. This reminded her that she had picked an inconvenient location to stop walking. She slowly turned around. "Sorry," she muttered to the businessman who was behind her.

"It's quite alright," he said with a casual wave of his hand. They continued to move around the barricade and it was at that moment when she had managed to stop walking and start looking around the large open reception room for David Lowery.

After less than two minutes of searching, she spotted him and nudged her husband. "There he is," she whispered. Anton nodded as the couple started to make their way over to where the playwright stood, his head bowed, his gaze on the notebook he held in his hand. All Patty could make out were the curly locks of hair that domed his head. Somehow, she knew beyond any doubt that it was him.

"Nothing has changed, he still uses public places to seek out inspiration," she whispered. Anton nodded as they walked over to where David was standing. As they walked, she continued speaking. "At the very least he found something to occupy himself while being subjected to waiting for us."

Instead of responding to her words, Anton called out the scriptwriter's name and watched as he broke into a bright smile.

"Patty, Anton, you made it," he said as he tucked the notebook in the side pocket of his satchel and embraced each of them in turn. "Kathy would have loved to have been here, but she got a new job this week."

"What's she doing?" Patty asked.

"For now, she's working as a translator and teacher of the Russian language at the Slavic Institute," he said. "Otherwise she would have loved to have been here to greet you guys. How was the flight?"

"Long," Anton said smiling. "I think Patty's a bit jet lagged."

"Well, you guys did loose six hours, so it stands to reason," he said. "Come on, we can take a cab back to our place, it will probably be easier than trying to catch a bus. Of course, it may cost us an arm and a leg, but at least you don't have to battle the rush hour crowds with all this luggage."

Patty nodded, and watched as David retrieved one of the suitcases and started carrying it towards the exit.

As they stepped outside, David managed to hail a taxi. Once their belongings were stacked in the truck, Patty and Anton climbed into the backseat while David got in the passenger seat and gave the driver his address.


	11. Chapter 11

_Before I delve into this chapter, there is something I need to say. I have had a really rough time lately, and I am sorry that the chapters have been few and far between. I have every intention of completing this story, but sometimes real life gets in the way. I will continue to post installments, but I ask that you please be patient with me while trying to contend with the real world._

_Enjoy the latest bit, and please let me know what you think.

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**Chapter 11**

Half an hour later, they pulled up to the same rustic apartment building that Patty remembered during her initial visit to New York City. Nothing had changed, even though David and Kathy's bank balance had no doubt improved since his play had been sold and was now up and running.

Patty was happy in the realization that her friends still resided in the humble looking apartment building. For whatever reason, this awareness made her relax instead of feeling as though she was still on the same emotional roller-coaster as she had been on since Anton and she had spoken about returning to the United States.

Allowing her thoughts to drift, she wondered if she would handle Jenkinsville with the same bravado as she now emanated since arriving at David and Kathy's building. Taking a deep breath, she watched as Anton got out of the car, and closed the door before rounding the vehicle and opened her door. Seconds later, she noticed his hand being offered to her. Accepting it, she got to her feet and watched as he closed the door.

Once he had brought her around to the sidewalk, she noticed that her legs, felt remotely like taffy. Reaching out, she allowed her weight to rest against a lamppost. Perhaps this feeling was nothing serious since she had been seated on the plane for more than six uncomfortable hours. She watched as Anton, David and the cab driver pulled the suitcases from the trunk and closed it.

Anton joined her on the sidewalk while David paid the faire. Once the cab had driven away, the two men managed to get everything inside the building. Slowly, she began to follow them up the stairs and into the building. Once the door had closed behind them, she began to make her way up the familiar staircase, her footsteps slow and somewhat heavy.

Eventually, she reached the landing and watched as David unlocked the front door. As soon as it swung open, her eyes unconsciously widened. The apartment looked vastly different than what she remembered and the changes within the four walls were noticeable.

David's apparent success with the play was visibly seen all around his home. On one wall, a framed collage was hanging, the pictures of two young people plastered in the middle of it. Patty, despite herself, stared at woman and man who graced it in silent wonder.

The first thought that entered her mind was how neither of them resembled Patty or Anton, in fact, the man had coal black colored hair and brown eyes, and the girl had wavy chestnut colored hair and green eyes. They were wrapped in a loving embrace, the man's eyes staring lovingly down at the girl. Although her face carried a mirrored reflection of Patty when she had been twelve-years-old, there was something uncanny about this picture.

David smiled when he saw the couple staring at the poster and as he closed the front door, he spoke. "The company gave me this poster when the play opened. It's not Broadway, but it's off Broadway, and in this town, that means a paycheck and a replacement for that old lumpy sofa," he explained with a proud smile. "I managed to get you both tickets for tomorrow night's performance if you want to go. I figured that tonight you would want to go to sleep early and get over the jetlag that you probably have."

"That sounds great, David," Patty offered sincerely as she diverted her gaze away from the poster, but felt one of Anton's arms winding around her shoulder. "Are these people supposed to be like us?" She asked.

"I'm not responsible for the casting, but yes, the actors are representative of the two of you." He smiled. "The male lead is named Brendan Mayer and he's an expert with accents but has been working with a dialogue coach to perfect the German accent. He's a very impressive performer."

Patty nodded, but instead of responding, she went over to the sofa and sat down. It was situated in the exact place as the old one had been but in comparison, it was a luxury. From there, she watched as the two men retrieved their belongings and carried the suitcases into the room. "I hope you don't mind bunking here. We don't have a guest room, but the sofa will fold out into a bed."

"Perhaps we ought to fold it out now and let Patty get some sleep," Anton suggested. "She looks as though she is about to fall asleep right here and now."

"Of course," David said, but watched as Anton helped Patty up so that they could make the bed. Moments later, Patty was able to stretch out and close her eyes. Moments later, as her husband surmised, she was fast asleep.

Anton looked at David as he covered her with a blanket. "Perhaps we ought to leave her to rest. I still need to call my parents and inform them that we arrived without any problems."

"You can place the call from the other room," David said as the two men went down the hallway to the playwright's study.

Once inside, David closed the door and he motioned towards the telephone that was on the desk. Anton went over and picked up the phone. Bringing it to his ear, he dialed the operator and spoke after several moments had passed. "I would like to place a direct call to Dr. Erikson Karl Reiker in Göttingen Germany, please. The number is 0551 555089."

Within seconds, the phone was ringing and Anton waited until it was picked up. As he heard the name 'Reiker' filling his ear, he smiled.

"Hello, Papa," he spoke, his German words filling the room.

"Anton, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me, I wanted to call and let you and Mama know that we arrived safely."

"That's good, your mother will be relieved," he began. "I am as well."

"Well, I promised before we left that I would call," he said with a tired smile.

"I'm glad you did, because there's something that I really need to tell you and I am not sure how to go about it."

"Is it about Minka, is she alright?"

"She's fine, your mother is feeding her some of her favorite fish flavored cat food as we speak," Erikson said with laughter in his voice. "But, it does have to do with what happened when I was at your apartment earlier today."

"What happened?"

"Well, it would seem that Patricia's younger sister does not wish for you to come to visit her family. In fact, she seemed rather adamantly against it."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that she had already asked her sister to come back and that you were on your way there," Erikson responded, but at the other end of the line Anton could hear him inhaling slowly. "You know, it does not surprise me in the slightest that Patricia's family is not behaving graciously or hospitably towards either of you. After all, you did see the telegrams they sent when Patricia informed them of your wedding. From what I was able to piece together, none of them seem to like any of us at all and this is entirely based on geography."

"I already know that Sharon had been brainwashed, Papa, I also remember how Mr. Bergen treated me when I was in his store over twelve years ago. The fact that these people don't like us is very clear since I distinctly heard Sharon use the word 'Nazi' when she spoke with Patty two weeks ago. The question is, do you think that she might call again?"

"Perhaps she might," Erikson said honestly. "I noticed that when we spoke, Sharon seemed rather confused. I am under the impression that she is not certain as to what she must do now. Let's just say that her loyalties seem to be rather…"

"…Conflicted?" Anton finished.

"Yes."

"Are you going to go back to the apartment before we are scheduled to return?" Anton wanted to know.

"I should probably do so since I will need to water your plants and check the mail. I am simply not certain if she will call back since she knows that you are on your way there."

"Well, given the impact that you have on other people, I can almost guess that she might try and call back anyway," Anton said with laughter in his voice. "I should go now though, I am borrowing David and Kathy's phone to place this call, and as you know, these calls are expensive."

"Well, you give them our best, and you kids be careful," Erikson said. "Kathy and David are going to be with you, correct?"

"Yes, that was what we arranged before flying here, anyway. They will have some time off and we will be leaving for Jenkinsville on Wednesday," Anton said.

"Then you tell them hello for us and give Ruth our best."

"I'll do that, but Papa, give Mama our love." With that, he hung up the phone and looked at David. "My father says 'hello'."

"Thank you," David said smiling, but his expression shifted as he regarded the look of contemplation in Anton's face. "But something tells me that he gave you some news that you were not really anticipating."

Anton nodded. Although he and his father had spoken in German, it seemed an almost universal assertion that something had happened and he would have to translate again. "My father said that Patty's younger sister called him while he was taking care of things in Hildesheim."

"Why would she call if she knew that you guys were coming?" David asked.

"I don't really know, but I think she wanted to persuade Patty and me against coming and ended up confiding in my father about it," Anton said. "It's no surprise since Papa is so easy to talk to, but still, it is rather strange."

"Perhaps," David said. "Do you think maybe Patty's parents used her sister as a means of persuading you not to come?"

"No, I don't think they know anything about her placing the call," Anton said honestly. "Of course, this does not make things easier for us since Patty is already quite apprehensive about us going back."

"I can imagine," David said. "I think it's a pretty brave thing for both of you to do. I mean; if you ask me, it's rather like not knowing what is going to be around the next corner, but trudging onward anyway. The deal is, neither of you know what will happen when you get there, so maybe it's best to not worry too much about it."

"Perhaps," Anton said. "Of course, it's easier said than done. Patty thinks she is completely alone in all of this."

"Well then we'll have to convince her that she's not and that we are here and will look out for her," David said as the sounds of the door opening in the distance could be heard. "That must be Kathy, come on, let's go see what she brought home for dinner."

Anton nodded, but in the back of his mind he could almost sense that Patty's family was not going to welcome them with open arms. The news his father had conveyed had affirmed that tenfold as well as mounted his own worries about this pending reunion.

* * *

The somber mood of Sharon's family life did not shift after her talk with Erikson Karl Reiker. In fact; in the wake of that particular dialogue, she felt more torn than ever before. How could some cold hearted Nazi come from such an empathetic background? She asked herself almost constantly.

Sighing, she recalled the conversation with this man and how his voice had sounded nice and understanding contrary to the not so nice things she had blurted out about his cultural heritage.

The questions he had raised had been laced in something that was a complete opposite of the way her parents addressed her as well as many of her friends. Anton's father had spoken to her, not as though she was a kid, but as though she was a rational thinking adult. There was no condescension in his voice whatsoever, it was merely kind hearted acceptance and this was a vast distinction from what she had been told by her family.

Crawling out of bed, she went over to the closet and opened it. Instead of contemplating what she was going to wear, she groped for the first article her hand touched. Closing it again, she went back over to the bed and tossed the selection haphazardly onto the bed.

As usual, the house seemed to be empty; the only sounds to emerge were wafting in from outside. Over time, Sharon had grown accustomed to sleeping with the windows open, specifically during the summer months.

The soothing scents of honeysuckle and flowers abruptly filled her nostrils as she came closer to the window and peered outside. Her gaze, for a moment shifted until she spotted the building that bordered the back perimeters of her parents' property.

For whatever reason, she never really contemplated this place, but suddenly she felt emotionally drawn to it. There was something about the cracks and crevices of it that held some sort of answer to all the unasked questions she harbored.

With her gaze drifting from one side of it to the other, she recalled the arguments that her parents had had about the broken down garage.

Her father had insisted that it be torn down, while her mother argued that it was an ideal place for her to grow flowers that were sensitive to the rays of the sun. Even Gertrude used the ramshackle dwelling as a place to store canned yams as well as other preserves.

Now, to top it off, the youngest member of the family was curious about it.

It had been a fact that she had once been afraid of going inside, but now curiosity seemed to override all other things. Now, she wanted to see the place with her own eyes.

Quickly, she managed to get dressed and slip quietly from her room.


	12. Chapter 12

_Here's the next chapter to the story. I have gotten past the writer's block, and hope to finish this story before I finish the other projects I have been working on. Here's hoping you enjoy this installment. Please keep me posted on what you think.

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**Chapter 12**

Outside, the sun was shining brightly in the sky, the clouds overhead looked like something straight out of a children's storybook. Once upon a time, Sharon had enjoyed such an atmosphere. There was something to be said for inventing cloud formations and being caught up in fantasy. Of course, back in those days life seemed a lot less complex to her.

Little did she know that it had been far more complex than she could imagine.

As she stepped outside, she allowed the screen door to lightly close behind her. In the recesses of the house, she could still hear the sounds of Chubby Checker playing, a mix between New Orleans Jazz and Rhythm and Blues wafting outside from beyond the kitchen.

Not caring about the housekeeper or what music was actually playing, Sharon made her way slowly across the yard in the direction of the old garage. Her thoughts seemed to be careening out of control because after several minutes, someone's voice suddenly made her practically jump out of her skin.

"Hey there, Sharon, what'cha doing?"

Abruptly, she raised her head and turned around to see that standing next to the fence was Freddy Dowd. She had not very much of him during the past years, at least not since he graduated from Jenkinsville High School during her eighth grade year. What she did know of him was that according to the rumors that circulated around town, he was a bit slow in the brain cells department, but well versed in doing anything that constituted 'outdoor work'.

Upon graduating, he had taken on a job at the lumber yard in Wynne City. This was the preferable option to working in an office or being a shopkeeper. Even though she did not know him very well, she simply could not imagine this man doing anything but construction work. Apparently, Freddy had returned to Jenkinsville to visit his father and grandmother. They still lived in the house with the tin roof that was adjacent to the Bergen house and he would regularly come back in order to visit.

Instead of backing away or distancing herself from him as she somehow felt inclined to do, she started to approach where he was standing, his tall frame leaning over the fence and his hand brushing along the top of it. "Your folks should probably have this fence painted," he began, his voice slow, but cordial enough. "The paint is so chipped and the wood is really warped. If it doesn't get the protective coat of paint that it needs, then it's a goner."

"I'll tell my dad," Sharon said flatly, her voice indicative that she was completely disinterested in fences or painting.

"You really should, because the fence might fall apart the next time a strong windstorm or twister blows through here." As he spoke, Sharon cast a glance back towards the garage. Instead of elaborating on the intricacies of painting a fence, Freddy continued speaking, his gaze following hers. "Tell your folks I could give them a good deal on it, and would even sand down and paint the garage for them as well."

"Okay, I'll talk to them about it," she said, but it was clear that her thoughts were elsewhere.

Freddy took a deep breath and looked at her. "Alright," he said as he moved his hand from the fence and ran it through his dirty blond hair. As the loose strands fell down over his brow, he turned to see that several cars were driving past. At that moment, his expression darkened and he watched as the sunlight was reflecting off of them. This caused him to become silent, his eyes literally staring holes into the street.

Sharon seeing this, looked over at him. "Hey, Freddy, is something the matter?"

Brushing it off, the man shook his head. "No, I was just rememberin' something that happened a long time ago. It was back when Patty and I were kids."

"What happened?" Sharon asked.

"It was nothing," he hedged. "Just some stupid stuff we did and how she caught all kinds of grief for it."

Sharon nodded, but there was something in his overall stance that made her wonder if why it was Freddy was active so evasive. As she watched his actions, Sharon was suddenly reminded of how her father had always insisted that the Dowd family were not socially acceptable as friends. It had never been anything that Sharon thought about or contemplated, but at that moment, she recalled how it had been a huge issue for her sister. Patty did not have a lot of friends growing up, and Sharon was completely aware of this. Not necessarily because their parents mentioned it, but simply because the Jenkinsville rumor mill seemed to work overtime as far as Patty was concerned.

Instead of letting her contemplate this even further, Freddy took a deep breath and spoke. "So, where is Patty anyway? First, I heard that she was in Atlanta trying to get a job at a newspaper and then I heard some crazy story about her running of to Germany of all places and getting married."

"It's not a crazy story, Freddy, it's true, she left for Germany four months ago," Sharon said.

"Why?" He asked.

"I don't know, but I think it might have been because of what happened when she protected a Nazi POW during the war," Sharon said.

"Yeah, I heard about that," he nodded, but watched as Sharon started to walk away. "That must have been kinda hard for you, huh?"

"For me?" Sharon asked. "I don't follow."

"Well, around here, people are guilty until proven innocent, you're guilty by association," Freddy said. "Why else do you suppose I left and moved to Wynne City in the first place? People here thought I was stupid, that I failed fourth grade twice because of a crush on a teacher. People around here simply ain't nice. Everything here is based on rumors, conditions, and hearsay."

Wordlessly, she started to walk away. The last thing she really wanted to do was to try and psychologically analyze everything that Freddy was trying to tell her.

"So Patty really got married?" He asked, his voice laced in what could only be described as disappointment.

Sharon nodded. "Yes, she did, but if it means anything to you, my parents aren't very happy about it."

"So what?" He mused. "Your snobbish parents never liked me, and they would probably have reacted to me the very same way as they did with this other guy. I feel sorry for him, never being able to live up to what they want or expect. Let's face it; I was too poor to properly court a Bergen girl anyway."

With indignation still lining his features, Freddy Dowd walked away, leaving Sharon staring after him in surprise. Never in a million years did she expect him to be as vocal as he had just been. In fact, it was strange for her to hear such blunt words about her parents' obvious shortcomings. Of course, most of her friends had spent so much time sucking up to Harry and Pearl Bergen, that Sharon was left to ponder if they were really friends with her or just trying to remain in the good graces of her parents.

Taking a deep breath, she watched his retreating form until he disappeared in the distance. As his footfalls faded, Sharon Bergen could feel the empathy filling her. 'Snobbish parents' he had said, and instead of defending their honor, she had remained silent. Perhaps there was a reason for that, since these words still rang in her ears long after he had disappeared around a corner.

Poor Freddy Dowd, Sharon thought sadly. Not only had he always carried the torch for her sister, but now she had dashed all his hopes when she affirmed the truth in the rumors. To be the one to tell him that he had lost any chance of courting Patty seemed almost too cruel for words.

Sighing sadly, Sharon started to make her way back in the direction of the garage. She had not forgotten what she intended on doing, but as she reached the entrance, she could feel the moistness of her hands as she touched the fabric of her clothing.

It was at this moment when she realized that she was still afraid of exploring the rooms above the garage. Entering, she noticed how dark and uninviting it was. From the entrance, she could make out how the light from beyond its walls seemed muted somehow. Trying to shut this out, she walked towards the uneven planks that acted as stairs along the side wall. These extended upwards into an attic style loft.

Glancing around, she noticed the potted plants as well as jars of yams, beans, and marmalade that had been placed on old bookshelves. Perhaps for the time being, Mother had managed to save this place from the wrecking ball after all, she thought as she gripped the stairs, and started to climb her way up and into the room.

Upon reaching the landing, she peered out across a dusty and dirty looking room. It looked deserted, as though no one had been in there for years. Dust permeated the air, and the dank humidity of the room making her clothes stick against her skin.

Taking a deep breath, she managed to bring herself fully into the room. I will worry myself with getting down later, she thought as she crossed the room and sat down on the lumpy old sofa that extended along the far wall. Just to the left of the sofa, she noticed a doorway, which extended into what looked to be another room.

Her thoughts shifted unconsciously back to Freddy's offer and instead of contemplating why she was even there, she started considering the possibilities. If I can get this place fixed up, maybe I can move in here and have a place of my own without having to deal with Mother and Father's endless arguments.

A small smile stretched its way across her face at this simple prospect.

Moments later, instead of continuing to make plans for a new home, Sharon's eyes caught something that was sticking out from beneath the one of the corners of the sofa. Coming closer, she noticed that it was a book; the pages creased and yellow with age.

"What is this?" She whispered under her breath as she picked up the worn blue colored object and began to blow the dust off of it. "A book," she muttered. "But why is it here?" She turned it onto its side and tried to read the title on the spine. When she could not, she opened it and abruptly stopped when she saw the ink marks that were on the inside cover page. Moving over towards the window, she tried to focus on the writing. What she saw made her gasp in surprise.

The ink was smeared somewhat, thus indicating that over time, the book had been exposed to the elements. The writing itself was still visible but Sharon managed to make out the smeared words. The script read: _'Property of Jackson's Prisoner of War Camp 1942.'_

"Prisoner of War Camp?" Sharon whispered the words. "I don't understand. How did this get here?" She began flip her way through the pages, until she noticed the title page, which read: 'The Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson'. After further study, she noticed that the print that covered the pages looked as though it had come from an old stencil machine. She cast a glance down at the writing and shook her head as she began to skim her way through the Table of Contents.

After several moments, she flipped through the pages, but stopped as the words 'Life is a succession of lessons, which must be lived to be understood' leapt out at her. What did all of this mean? She asked herself as she ran her hand over the cover.

She recalled first the conversation with Anton's father, and then the ones with Ruth and Freddy. Closing her eyes for a moment, she began to speak, her whispered words filling the otherwise empty room. "What if I was wrong?" She asked the stillness. "What if everything I thought had been right, wasn't?"

She shook her head as she clutched the book against her chest. Patty and her husband were coming to Jenkinsville, and whether Sharon liked it or not, they would be there within the next couple of days.

Sadly, she got to her feet and went over to the window. From this vantage point, she could see the tin roof of the Dowd home in the distance. Her father's prejudices remained in embedded in her mind as Freddy's blunt words reentered her conscience.

Reaching out, she allowed her fingers to brush against the window. "What if Patty left home because Daddy couldn't accept her?" She asked the stillness. "What if I had it better because he approved of my friends and what I was doing?"

The questions continued to wreck havoc on her until she went over to the lumpy sofa and sat down with the book still in her hand. Flipping several of the pages, she found an essay entitled: _Illusions_ and without another thought to distract her, she began to read.

* * *

It was not until late in the evening when the shadows from outside dimmed the light that she had been reading by, and Sharon was distracted back to reality. She took a deep breath and returned the book to its spot on the sofa. Instead of taking the book down with her and bringing it into the house, she opted to leaving it where she had found it.

She wondered if anyone had noticed that she had not been around much during the day. Somehow she believed that her parents probably had no idea where she had holed herself up and concluded that they were simply not interested.

It had been this way since her father's health issues started taking precedence in all of their lives.

Making her way slowly down the steps, she sighed deeply. At least getting down was not as hard as she had initially thought. As she reached the ground level, she crossed the room before making her way back in the direction of the house.

As she walked, she suddenly stopped when she saw her father standing in the doorway, his hands on his hips and an unhappy scowl lining his face.

"Where the hell have you been? Your mother and I have been worried sick!" He snapped. Sharon noticed that he was still blocking her way into the house, and instead of trying to bypass him, she remained where she was standing.

"I was reading a book and lost track of time," Sharon said firmly, her voice surprisingly steady.

"It's summer vacation, Sharon, you're going to have to come up with a better excuse than reading," Harry said hotly. "I happen to know that you are not the reading type."

"Well, maybe I wasn't, but that's changing," Sharon responded. "I was reading, Daddy."

Harry's face flushed, but he reached out and grabbed her shoulder, his grip never faltering. "Don't lie to me. I want you to tell me where you were and who you were with and don't even think about saying you were with Ruth, because your mother ran into her at the Sav-Mor Market earlier today."

"I wasn't with anyone, I was in the room over the garage reading a book, and I lost track of time," she said. "I did see Freddy Dowd earlier today, though."

"You know that I have forbidden you from ever talking to that boy," Harry said angrily.

Sharon looked at her father, her eyes widening. "Maybe, but you've said why that was the case. Is it because you don't like him? Or because people talk about him in town like he's some sort of tramp. I think he's a hard working guy, just like you."

"Don't you dare compare him and me again," Harry shouted, his voice filled with anger and overt agitation. As he spoke, he pressed his hand against his chest, and started to stumble towards the still open door. Catching himself, he returned inside the house to calm himself down. The fact that their argument was completely forgotten did not settle Sharon's nerves at all.

In fact, this only made her feel all the more frightened. After all, Harry Bergen was not the sort of person who would simply walk away from an argument. He was far too aggressive to back down.

At that moment, it became very clear that the security of her world was falling away and Sharon wondered how much more she would have to contend with before things were going to get better.


	13. Chapter 13

_Thanks for reading, please leave a review. It is very discouraging to write this and not receive any comments at all. I have been inspired to work on this again and will do my best to get chapters posted as time allows._

_Many thanks to those who have given me the encouragement to continue with this story, it is greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy this latest installment.

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**Chapter 13**

The time that Patty and Anton spent in New York City passed quickly and soon the four friends found themselves on a train heading west. On the morning of their scheduled departure, Patty and Anton were in relatively high spirits. The play depicting their adventures had run the night before.

The play itself was an undeniable success and after the final curtain call, Anton and Patty were invited to a cast party, where they met the actors and were able to tell them of the overwhelming distinctions between fiction and reality.

It had been truly an exciting evening filled with champagne and light hearted dialogue. Of course, what brought them back to reality was the fact that within twenty four hours of having watched the play, their adventure would take them straight into the heart of America. From Grand Central Station, they would be getting on express train bound for Memphis, Tennessee. This would then connect them to one heading towards Jenkinsville.

Patty knew the moment she had woken up that this adventure would be anything but status quo. In fact, she was more than aware that while the drama aspect would be present, the reality would be anything but what was depicted in a fictional work.

The last leg of their journey would be case in point and the feelings that she carried would give way to questions, memories, and reflections. These would, in turn, dissolve the relaxed atmosphere of the days gone by.

As the train barreled it way closer and closer to the small Arkansas town; David, and Kathy began to notice these changes taking on a more physical incarnation. Patty's face was unusually pale, and she sat in a slouch and stared out the window. Gone was the resourceful person who had taken it upon herself to travel halfway around the world in search of love, and in its place was a fearful young woman who half anticipated being rejected at every turn.

The intimidation seemed to swallow Patty with each mile of countryside that passed. In fact, the closer they came to the stop, the more worried and anxious she felt. What she did not seem to notice was that Anton appeared to be as distracted as she was. His body sat rigid and he stared down at his hands.

After some time had passed, he reached over and rested his hand on Patty's, his fingers wrapping their way around hers and holding tightly. Unconsciously, he began to lightly stroke her fingers in a steady rhythm.

To the former POW, the landscape and area was unshakably familiar. In fact, and much to his surprise, an emotional ache still dwelled in the recesses of his heart as he recalled the time when he had been a prisoner of war and later; a fugitive.

The terrifying memories that consumed him could no longer be denied, and as David regarded them, he could see the depths of pain and anguish in the German's eyes. "Something tells me that you are thinking about far more than simply the welfare of your wife," he remarked casually. "You are recalling the first time you arrived here, correct?"

Anton swallowed, but soon offered an affirmative nod and spoke, his expression earnest. "Yes," He cast a glance down to where his hand still held Patty's. "There is a great deal that I recall and now it feels as though it happened only yesterday and not twelve years ago. For whatever reason, which I cannot clarify, I feel this strange sort of sadness."

"Is it only because you remember arriving, or is there another reason?" Patty asked fearfully. Contrary to the hold that he still exerted on her hand, she could not help but feel afraid. Perhaps he regretted having met her, or the experiences of that summer that somehow remained engraved in her heart and mind.

After several seconds had passed, and he had yet to answer, she whispered his name. "Anton."

"The negative memories are centered on my arrival, nothing more," he said firmly. "They are not of you, Liebling," As these sincere words hung in the air, he leaned towards her and lightly brushed his free hand through her hair until it rested against one side of her face. "I will never ever regret having found you."

She closed her eyes and nodded as she leaned up against the palm of his hand. She never grew tired of his gentle touch or soothing words.

Instead of speaking of this, she spoke of her own memories. "I can still remember standing at the station when the train arrived and watching from a distance. The platform was full of the townspeople and they even had the boy scouts out there showing off. Jimmy Wells was one of them and he was there trying to act like he could single handedly save the town with an axe and a piece of bubble gum."

"You were there, but I don't recall having seen you," Anton whispered.

"Maybe because I was too far away to actually see anything that was happening," she responded in kind. "The first time I actually did was when they brought you and the others into my parents' store."

Anton smiled and it was clear to all of them that he preferred to be caught up in that particular memory as opposed to any other. "Yes, that was a bit nicer," he said smiling.

"It must be very strange for you to see these places again, under much different circumstances," Kathy said, thus breaking her own silence.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Anton began. "Although, it would seem rather cliché to say that that was a strange and difficult situation. Just before we arrived, I noticed how the others had grown rather weary and restless from having been on the train for such a long duration of time. They were talking about getting a shave, taking a shower, and hopefully getting something substantial to eat. I was contemplating books and ideas and hoping that wherever we were heading that there would be a library there." He paused as he cast a glance around before continuing. "We were not sitting in a compartment like this, but instead, it was a large open room with wooden benches, and not exceedingly comfortable. At times, it felt rather hot and humid and so we would open the windows. By the time we had arrived in Jenkinsville, it felt as though an unspoken relief had surrounded us. The train had been uncomfortable and the guards were perhaps as restless as we were."

It was at that moment that David and Kathy realized at that that the present was perhaps a far cry better for their friends than trying to rehash everything that happened in the past. Instead of making any further inquiries, they returned their attention to the passing countryside.

With this silence now engulfing them, Patty felt herself being drawn back into Anton's loving embrace. There, she closed her eyes and remained for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the train began to slow down in order to stop at the Jenkinsville station. As this was happening, the four of them started to get up and collect their belongings. Once they had everything, they started to move towards the door where they would be exiting the train.

As she was standing up, Patty found herself staring out the nearest window and recognizing the same familiar things that she had known of during her youth. It was on those rare occasions when she would get to travel to Memphis and visit her grandmother.

As a whole, the town looked as though it had not changed too terribly much. Somehow, everything felt stagnant to her except for the physical and emotional changes that had occurred in her own life.

Moments passed and the squealing sound of the brakes could be heard as the train came to a stop. Once it did, Patty reached out and opened the door before climbing down onto the platform. As soon as she managed to steady herself, she turned and motioned for Anton to hand down their luggage. He did as she indicated and then disembarked.

David and Kathy followed suit in the very same manner.

As soon as the four of them had cleared the train, they started to make their way along the platform and away from the steaming locomotive. Within seconds, they had reached the street as the whistle blew once again, the piercing whine filling the air. Seconds passed and the doors slammed shut and the train continued on its journey.

Patty and Anton had both agreed that before they would make an appearance at the Bergen house, they would go to Ruth's in order to get freshened up. David and Kathy had opted to settling in at the Jenkinsville Inn on the main street near the town square. They accepted this compromise because Ruth did not have adequate space in which to house four guests.

"This place reminds me of a book or a movie," Kathy began, her voice laced in a sort of romantic whimsy. "It's like I'm on the set of 'Gone With the Wind' or something."

"There are no plantations here, I'm afraid," Patty began, but found herself liking the romantic analogies that emerged in Kathy's words. "It's too bad, though. I mean this town might actually be more exciting if it had its own version of Rhett Butler or Scarlett O'hara hanging around."

"It doesn't need that," David said smirking. "It has all of us arriving in town on the four fifteen from Memphis. Besides, from the looks of things, it looks like the rumor mill has been working overtime around here and someone decided to send the 'welcome wagon' to meet us."

As he spoke, he pointed towards a group of men who were approaching them, several carrying bottles and long pieces of wood. The group was being led by Jimmy Wells. Although Patty had rarely interacted with him, she knew that from the looks of things he meant business and she could not help but ponder what was going to happen next.

Unconsciously, Kathy inched her way closer to David and Patty felt herself securely being drawn into Anton's protective embrace. It was at that moment, when the former POW realized how frightened his wife was. She was trembling in his arms and trying with all the will power that existed to not allow her fear to show.

Anton also knew that this was no longer an issue of Patty facing the past, but something else far more dangerous. Given Jimmy's antagonistic expression, it seemed abundantly clear that unlike the play they had seen in New York, the overall place seemed reminiscent of the way things had been twelve years ago.

"Well, well, well," Jimmy sneered as he regarded the four of them. "I never thought I would see the day when you would have the nerve to show your ugly face around here again."

Not certain who specifically he was addressing, her or her husband, Patty backed further into Anton's embrace as Jimmy stepped closer to them. At what seemed like the same instant, both of them cringed at the same instant they smelled the whiskey that was on the other man's breath.

When none of them responded, he continued, his words slurring together. "I'm surprised that cold hearted Nazi is even here, not after he ran off like a scared rabbit instead of taking his medicine like a good little boy."

He began to laugh at his own joke and within seconds the other men had joined in. Several of them started to come towards Anton, their fists clenched.

Anton remained where he was and instead of turning away, he stood his ground, his arms still holding Patty. Instead of speaking to the mob, he looked down at her. "Don't respond to them, Liebling," he whispered and she nodded.

Silence hung in the air for several moments, but then David spoke. "You know, fellas, the war's been over for more than a decade. Surely you cannot view him as an enemy any longer."

"The war is over, the war is over…" Jimmy began to mimic as he tried to maintain his balance. "Maybe you should just mind your own business."

"The welfare of my friends is my business," David shot back. "That seems to go beyond your level of comprehension."

"Maybe you should just get back on that train and get the hell out of here you unpatriotic asshole," Jimmy said aggressively as he shoved David away. Kathy reached over and rested her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Why should we leave?" David asked, all the while trying to keep his anger at bay. "Because you said so? Well, boys, the last time I checked this was a free country, and if you want to bully us because we're different, then perhaps you're no better than those who caused that terrible war to happen in the first place."

Patty and Anton watched the group upon hearing David's words. Several of them started to slowly back away, but the majority of them remained where they were. It seemed clear that they were trying to process the playwright's words or had resolved themselves to watching Jimmy's back.

Instead of responding to David, Jimmy looked at Patty, his expression laced in absolute disdain. "You know, people around here don't forget so easily that you're a traitorous bitch. You helped an escaped Nazi during wartime. How can you expect anyone to welcome you here with open arms?"

He took a deep breath, and for a moment, Kathy thought he was going to throw up on them. She waved her hand in front of her face and continued to watch as Jimmy started to bypass David and step even closer to Patty and Anton.

At that precise moment, Jimmy reached out with the intention of grabbing hold of the neck of Patty's dress. When she and Anton moved two steps to the left, he swaggered by and nearly tripped over his own two feet.

"You know what, Jimmy?" Patty finally found her voice and spoke as she turned towards him. "I don't expect anything here, but it would seem to me that this battle is not about me at all. In fact, I think it's all about what a spineless, drunken bully you are. I only returned here to see how my family was doing and nothing more. After that, I will leave and not come back."

"Your family?" Jimmy said mockingly. "You don't have a family here, they disowned you when they discovered where your so-called loyalties lie."

"Well, if that's the case, then I would rather hear it from them and not from the rumor mill around here. I suppose once we're gone, you'll have to find some other defenseless person to bully around, but at least you won't be doing it with all your friends, " she said as a smile suddenly stretched its way across her face. "It's truly ironic that those guys decided they have more important things to do than to go around tormenting other people. Didn't you notice? They're now gone, every last one of them."

In response to this and not knowing what to do next, Jimmy simply pushed her and she felt herself falling against Anton's chest.

Feeling her body falling against him, Anton spoke, his voice filled with unsuppressed anger. "A real man does not harm a woman, and it does not matter from where that man comes. Those who hit women are not men, they are cowards."

Instead of responding, Jimmy hauled back with the intention of punching Anton. What none of them expected was for David to intervene, grab Jimmy's fist, and squeeze it with all his might.

Surprised, Jimmy looked up and into the hostile eyes of David Lowery. "Let go, asshole!"

In response to these words, David tightened his hold as Jimmy's swearing continued. "You know, it would seem to me that we have seen enough violent intentions coming from you to last us through yet another war. I don't think any of us want that, do you?"

"Let go, or I'll…" Jimmy shouted.

"…Or you'll what? Go after and start smacking someone else around? It is very clear to me that you have very little regard for people in general. You are nothing more than a bum who, instead of doing something productive, tanks up on booze and goes out to beat up people you perceive as being weaker than you."

Before he could so much as respond, David released the hold he exerted on the other man's fist. In doing so, he managed to push Jimmy away and they all watched him stumble backwards and land on his bottom.

Noting that this man no longer served a threat, Anton looked at David and spoke. "Thank you."

David offered a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. "It's no great credit to me, that's generally what friends do. It's their way of trying to be there for one another, of showing that they care."

"As Patty did for me all those years ago," Anton said as he looked down into her eyes. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, but I think we should get out of here."

Anton nodded and releasing his hold on her, he leaned down and collected their belongings. Once he held them, they walked away from the station with Kathy and David following them up Main Street towards the center of town.

As they walked, Patty unconsciously rested her head against Anton's shoulder and took a staggering breath. Releasing it, she spoke, her voice now cracking with emotion. "I know that Jimmy is not a very nice person, but maybe he was telling the truth and no one really wants us here."

In response to these words, Kathy reached over and rested her hand on Patty's shoulder. "You have every right to be here, you know. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Especially people who are too shallow minded to embrace the fact that there are other ways of doing things or resolving conflict."

Instead of responding verbally to her friend's words, Patty simply nodded.

Moments later, she extended her arm and pointed. "The hotel is right over there," she said. "Are you both absolutely sure you don't mind staying there?"

David shook his head. "We're positive, but seeing how they roll up the sidewalks early in the evening, I think we should go check in and get our room. I'm feeling rather tired right now, and am certain that you both could use some shut eye as well. Shall we meet tomorrow morning at around nine?"

"That sounds great," Patty said nodding. She then separated herself from her husband in order to embrace each of them in turn. "Thanks so much for being here for us. I really had no idea that something like that was going to happen."

"We know," Kathy said gently. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"We'll meet you here if that's alright," Anton said.

"Sounds great," David said with a nod as he and Kathy started to make their way across the street in the direction of the small local hotel. With a casual wave, he called out to them. "See you tomorrow."

As soon as they were alone, Patty and Anton silently walked further down the street in the direction of Ruth's house. Reaching the sidewalk that ran in front of her parents' store, they suddenly stopped and Patty looked down at her watch. The numbers read that it was close to five thirty in the evening and the store had closed only a half an hour before.

For some moments, she stopped walking and stared up at the sign before looking back over at Anton. "I always liked the sign," she mused. "I guess some things will never change."

"What do you mean?"

"It's simple, but concise. I guess that was one similarity that I shared with my parents as they always liked things like that to be simple," she replied.

"That was actually the sort of impression that I got with your father during that brief meeting," Anton said they continued to walk, but abruptly the couple stopped when the door opened and Sharon emerged from the confines of the store.

Impulsively, Patty swallowed the lump that was now forming in her throat. "Oh my God," she whispered, her eyes once more on Anton. "It's Sharon."


	14. Chapter 14

_Since one of my reviewers from the other story touched on this accent thing, I decided to incorporate that into this chapter. I grew up in Texas, and no one ever really asked me about my accent, in fact, I lost any semblance of it when I moved to Germany 14 years ago. And while people do sometimes ask me sometimes where I am originally from, it's not a question that is commonly raised anymore._

_In that regard, the changes in Patty are similar to the changes I experienced when I moved here, but it is something that I wanted to bring up. Anyway, with that said, here's the next chapter. Reviews always do help with me getting the updates up faster and since I am concentrating mostly on this story, it would really encourage me to keep at it. So please let me read what you think.

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**Chapter 14**

Before Anton could respond to what Patty had said, Sharon raised her head. It was apparent that she had heard her sister's words as her expression gave her shock and surprise away. Wordlessly, she took an unconscious step back. It was apparent that any words that she could have said were now stuck in her throat.

On the surface, Sharon had not changed all that much since the last time Patty had seen her. Today, she was dressed in a simple skirt and white blouse. Her long blonde hair was tied back with a dark blue colored sash.

To Patty, Sharon was still the epitome of all the things that her parents deemed as appropriate and right. Without contemplating the reasons she felt this way, a feeling of extreme bitterness enveloped her as she regarded her younger sister. Instead of speaking, she waited for the teenager to say something.

Sharon took a deep breath and licking her lips, she did, her single word emerging in a waver. "Patty?"

"Hi Sharon."

"Y-you're here, just like you promised," she said trying all the while to ignore the man standing next to her sister. "When did you arrive?"

"About half an hour ago," Patty said.

"Are you going to come to our house now?" She asked nervously.

"No, it's been a long day and we need to get some rest. We'll come by the store tomorrow," Patty said just before motioning towards her husband. "Sharon, I'd like you to meet Anton. Anton, this is my sister, Sharon."

Sharon offered a half hearted shrug of her shoulders before lowering her head once again. "I…" Instead of speaking further, she bit down on her lower lip, thus indicating that she was completely intimidated by her sister's introduction.

Anton took a deep breath as he took in the heartbreak that seemed to encase the teenager. For whatever reason, he was reminded of the insecurity that Patty had carried all those years ago.

As if by impulse, he extended his hand and rested it on the younger girl's shoulder. "Hello, Sharon. It's nice to finally meet you."

Instead of responding to his words, Sharon abruptly backed away, the contact now broken. It was then when Anton allowed his hand to once more hang down at his side. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice unchanging.

Before he could say another word, Sharon took off running back in the direction of her home without so much as looking back.

Once she had disappeared in the distance, Anton inhaled slowly. "That was definitely a mistake, wasn't it?" He whispered to his wife. "She looked completely terrified, as though I had a weapon and was intent on using it."

"It's not you, she's been brainwashed just like every other person in this crummy town," Patty said sadly. "She probably thinks that we're still at war and you're the enemy. I mean; case in point is what just happened with Jimmy."

"Jimmy was drunk, Patty," he whispered rationally.

"Maybe, but most of the people here have that same sort of mentality," she said. "They think that anyone who is different or speaks with an accent is dangerous."

"If that is really the case, then it is rather strange that I never once thought you posed a danger to me," Anton said as a merry, almost teasing, smile graced his lips. "After all, you speak with one yourself and I have always perceived it to be positively endearing."

"I never noticed it," she whispered. "In fact, during my trip to New York and later to Germany, no one ever commented about it."

"Perhaps it was because they felt that it would be impolite to make overt remarks about the way other people speak," he said rationally. "After all, Liebling, it's not how people say something, but, rather, what they say that holds validity and significance."

"It doesn't change what just happened with my sister, though," Patty began. "It also doesn't conceal what happened back at the train station with those other guys. If their reaction is any sort of indication as to what we are in for, maybe we should do like Jimmy said and get back on the train and leave."

"No, we can't run away just because a bully comes along. After all, you saw how he carried himself," Anton argued. "One does not require a medical certification to see the cause of this behavior."

"I know, but what about Sharon?" Patty argued. "She wasn't drunk at all, but she did run off like a scared rabbit." As these words emerged, she sighed sadly. "The thing is; of all the members of my family, I had sort of hoped that Sharon would be the one who accepted your presence in my life. Now, given her reaction, it's pretty obvious that she doesn't."

"The problem is not your sister, but instead the unhappy truth that many young people here hate someone based solely on what their elders say. Maybe, in her own way, Sharon is trying to figure all of this out and needs our help in recognizing that her prejudices are unjustified."

"How can we do that if she runs away?" Patty asked.

Anton took a deep breath as he closed his eyes for a moment, Opening them again, he began to speak. "I know that she is afraid of me but consider this."

"Consider what?"

"During the past month, your sister called our home on several occasions," Anton said.

"So?" Patty asked. "She only talked to me. How can that make any difference?"

"It does because the last time she called, we had already left for New York," Anton said. "When she called, she spoke with my father."

"She did?"

"Yes," Anton said with a slow nod, "and based on what he told me, she was seeking his assistance as a means of convincing us not to come. Perhaps, she is having some sort of internalized struggle with all of this. Maybe deep down inside she knows that our coming here it is not simply about you finding resolution with your parents, but it could also serve as a means to destroy all of Sharon's preconceived notions about me." Taking a deep breath, he shook his head as he continued speaking. "Of course, given the events and feelings I experienced on the train, perhaps it was just as important for me to come back here as well."

"When did you talk to your dad and find out all this?" She asked.

"I called Göttingen during our first few hours in New York. We were at David and Kathy's apartment and you were asleep," he said as they started to walk in the direction of Ruth's house. "I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't want you to worry. You had already so much on your mind."

"But, you could have at least said something," she argued.

"I suppose I could have, but I had reasons for not mentioning it," he began as he took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Which were?"

"I feared that you might perceive it as my way of trying to force you into choosing between your family and myself. That would simply not have been right."

"That's crazy," she objected. "Anton, you're my family now, and I don't care what they think of me anymore. I just – don't," she whispered. "Besides, how can I be loyal to people who either beat me as a child or treated me like I was unimportant? The idea is crazy, and even though I know it's not Sharon's fault, I know that I can't feel the same sort of emotions towards them as she does."

"In other words, it's still quite painful for you, even now, twelve years later," he smiled gently as he stopped walking and turned towards her. When he saw that she was silently nodding, he continued. "I do know that contrary to all the negative experiences and emotions that you have carried, you still are the same extraordinary person I met all those years ago." Anton smiled proudly as he touched one side of her face, his fingertips light as they stroked her cheek. "Just remember, everything will be alright."

She nodded, but raised her head without allowing her gaze to lock on him. "Just please don't blame her."

"I don't," came his whispered response.

In lieu of a response, she reached up and rested her hand against his, her flat palm holding his hand where it was.

Despite her internalized fears and overwhelming sadness, Patty knew that Anton was, in his own way, telling her that he loved and was proud of her. Licking her lips, she allowed herself to make eye contact with him. "Ich liebe dich, auch." _(I love you, too.)_

Seconds later, he withdrew his hand, but instead of breaking contact, he wound his fingers gently around her hand and with his fingers intertwining hers, he lowered their hands to his side. "Perhaps we ought to get to Ruth's house as she is now doubt expecting us."

Patty nodded in agreement as they made their way silently down the street.

* * *

When they finally reached the outskirts of town and caught sight of the small house where Ruth's resided, Patty smiled despite her nervousness. Somehow, I can always count on Ruth to be there when I need her, she thought happily as they approached the house.

Just as they had reached the border to the property, the couple could see that the front door was half open and Robert Hughes was seated on the front porch.

A Bible and stenographer's notebook were side by side on the table and next to those items sat a chipped porcelain cup. As they came closer, Patty noticed that he was writing something in the notebook. "Forgiveness is the key," he was mumbling under his breath as he continued to scribble in the notebook.

Seconds later, he reached for the cup and brought it to his lips and took a long sip. Lowering it again, he returned it to the table as Patty took a deep breath and spoke.

"Robert?"

Distracted, he raised his head.

When he recognized her, his face broke into a broad smile. "Well, I'll be, if it ain't little Patricia Bergen. Girl, you're all grown up. What happened to that spry child who used to go about playing in the mud?" He dropped the pencil on the table and stood up in order to greet them.

"I'm not Patricia Bergen anymore, my name is now Patricia Reiker," she said smiling and with a polite wave of her hand, she motioned towards her husband.

"Of course," the minister said as he ran his hand down the front of his clothing before extending it towards Anton. "Robert Patrick Hughes." As soon as Anton had accepted his outstretched hand, he continued speaking, his German words somewhat broken, but still relatively comprehensible. "Es freut mich, Sie kennenzulernen."

Anton smiled, his eyes brightening upon hearing the minister's formal greeting. "I am pleased to meet you, too. My name is Frederick Anton Reiker, but my friends just call me Anton." He paused as his curiosity got the better of him. "Do you speak German?"

"Not very much, I just learned to speak a few words when I was servin' there," Robert said freely. Anticipating Anton's next question, he continued. "During the war, I was servin' just outside of Stuttgart. There was a lot of people who spoke both languages and I picked up some words."

"I seem to recall Ruth mentioning this when we spoke twelve years ago. She went on to say that you aspired to become a minister," Anton said taking note of the objects on the table. "From what I see, you have been successful."

"Yes, moderately," Robert nodded. "After all that was over, I came home, started at seminary, and finished about seven years ago. That's what I'm working on; my sermon for Sunday mornin'. I generally preach at a small church in Wynne City," Robert said as he shifted his attention to Patty. "And you? I would say that marriage suits you quite well. You look happy."

"I am," she said smiling. After several moments of silence she cast a glance towards the front door. "So, is Ruth here or is she out making trouble somewhere else?"

"Generally the answer to that would be that she's out giving Mrs. Benn trouble at the Sav-Mor Market, but today I think she's inside," he smiled. "Since we have been expectin' you, she wanted to make a special dinner," He paused as he picked up the cup and started to turn towards the door. "She was happy when the telegram arrived sayin' that you were comin' to visit. I must say I'm rather surprised to see you here, though."

"Because of the local reaction?" Anton asked.

"Yeah," Robert nodded. "It's really sad that the Bergen family's been doing a great deal of gossiping in town since they found out the two of you were plannin' to come back. From what I could gather, you will have your work cut out for you. Perhaps not so much with the missus, but with him. He's right ornery, that one. You'd think that heart troubles and health challenges would make a person softer, but not Mr. Bergen."

Patty took a deep breath. "I sort of expected that as he's never been a very nice person anyway," she said openly. "But, we didn't come back here for his sake, we came back more for Sharon's."

"That may be hard too," Robert said openly. "Sharon was here several days back and Momma said that she was sayin' nasty stuff and actin' like you were both the sworn enemy."

"But, she's the one who wanted us to come in the first place," Patty objected. "Why would she behave that way now that we're here?"

"Well, she's been told stuff ever since she was little and she's more impressionable than you ever was," Robert said gently. He rested his hand on her shoulder and continued speaking. "We know it ain't true, Patty, but that don't change things, 'specially around here. All that it shows is how quick hate can breed even more hate."

Anton nodded. "Perhaps that explains her reaction just after our friends went to check in at the hotel. We were on our way here and we saw her just outside the Bergen Department Store."

"You saw her?" Robert asked.

"Yes, but only briefly," Patty nodded. "When I tried to introduce her to Anton, she looked at him like he was the devil incarnate."

The minister took a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. "Perhaps you should give her some time to come around," he began as he went over to the door and opened it before waving his hand cordially at them to enter. "Come on in, let's not keep Momma waiting any longer."

Patty nodded as they followed the preacher into the house. As the door closed behind them, she could feel the sadness literally washing over her. If her parents were saying nasty things about Anton, then it was truly no wonder Sharon was so petrified of him.


	15. Chapter 15

_First I want to invite you to read a couple of stories in this section. Seeing things pick up here has been a wonderful thing for me, as these characters are truly special. Please have a look at PLUTOisaplanet and moonlight982's stories. They are both very good stories written in the same spirit as this one. I think you will enjoy them._

_Thanks again for the reviews, and please do keep me posted on what you think of how this one is going. Here's hoping you enjoy the latest installment.

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**Chapter 15**

Sharon was openly crying by the time she reached the sanctuary of the room that was over the garage along the perimeters of her parents' property. She managed to climb the stairs sometimes stumbling and falling against the loose boards, but eventually, reaching the landing.

She knew that the last thing she really wanted anyone to see, was that she was upset and that it was because of what had just happened in town.

Patty was back in Jenkinsville and it was because the teenager had asked her to come. It was all her doing, and yet, Sharon could not comprehend why her sister had been so selfless. This completely contradicted all the horrible rumors as well as the words of disloyalty that her parents had so vehemently claimed.

All the same, I wish I had just kept my big mouth shut, she thought bitterly as she seated herself on the sofa and allowed her body to collapse against the cushions. Clasping her hands together, she stared down at her lap. Nothing good could possibly come out of any of this, she thought sorrowfully.

As her thoughts continued to drift, Sharon could feel the lumpy cushions beneath her weight and smell the musky odor of a room that had not been properly aired out. An unhappy sigh emerged as she spoke to the stillness. "What's the matter with me?"

When no answer emerged, she continued speaking, her voice laced in utter heartbreak. "Yesterday I was fine, and now I feel like I've gone and made the biggest mistake of my life."

Groping about, her fingers began an unconscious search for the book of essays that she had been reading for the last few days. Once she did, she stared down at the worn cover before opening it. After several moments had passed, instead of reading the words that graced the pages, she stared down at the writing.

Why did I run away from him? She asked herself as she cast the book to one side. No matter what she did, the questions still ravaged her conscience. The more she thought about the man she had seen in town, the more she realized that he did not look at all dangerous as she had initially surmised.

In fact, there was no denying that Anton Reiker looked pretty harmless. She had never seen so much as a picture of her brother-in-law, and now that she could match a name to a face, there was no denying that he was handsome. In fact, he was not the depiction of the vicious monster the townspeople made him out to be. Maybe he's okay after all, she thought, even if he does talk rather strangely.

"Sharon!" The sound of someone calling her name abruptly broke into her contemplations and she raised her head as recognition washed over her. That was her mother calling. She wiped the remaining moisture from her eyes, got to her feet, and slowly left the security of the hideout.

Once she had managed to climb back down, she crossed the room, and stepped outside. There, standing in the yard, was her mother. She was waiting, her hands on her hips and her eyes watching as Sharon approached.

"Where have you been?" Emerged as soon as the teenager had stopped walking and was regarding her through confused eyes.

For whatever reason, there was a strange abrasiveness in her mother's speech that the teenager had rarely heard when Pearl would address her. In fact, her mother had always been what Sharon had come to dub as 'sugary sweet', which was almost too annoying to be real. Pearl's voice had always emerged so nice that Sharon had been teased relentlessly in school for being the 'Bergen family's little princess'.

Reaching her teenage years, Sharon reached the conclusion that this form of baby talk had been the kiss of death.

Of course, she would never have considered talking it over with her mother because she feared what Pearl might have said in response to these words or feelings. After all, if her elder sister's acceptance in the fold was based on family conditions, then perhaps her own would be as well.

Sharon took a deep breath and instead of lying to her mother or offering the same answer that she had given when her father had confronted her; she decided to tell the truth. "When I got back, I needed some time to myself, so I went to the room over the garage and sat down to think."

"You missed dinner," Pearl said sternly.

"I'm sorry," She whispered. "I guess I wasn't really hungry. I sort of lost my appetite earlier."

"Well, that may be, but you really shouldn't be running off like this, you know," Pearl said weakly and as an afterthought, her next question emerged. "Why did you?"

Sharon shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she mumbled.

Although the teenager knew the reason why she had withdrawn from her family, she did not want to speak of it. The constant feuding was unbearable and she walked on eggshells with both of her parents. Her father was always upset, her mother always nagging and this left the teenager's emotions in a state of limbo. Even though she really cared for her father, she simply could not tolerate even hearing the words 'cigarettes', 'stress', or 'health' in the same sentence any longer.

Lowering her head, she stared down at the ground, her eyes taking in the way the green grass framed her mother's sandals. After several moments of silence passed between them, Sharon took a deep breath and raised her head, her simple confession emerging. "Patty's back, Momma."

"She is?"

"Yes Ma'am, I saw her in town just before I came home and I thought maybe you should know that she's back…with him."

"With her husband, you mean?"

Sharon nodded. "I saw them both, but only talked to her for a few seconds. Then her husband said something to me and I got really scared and ran away. That's why I was in the garage, I was trying to recompose myself before coming inside."

"So he's here with her?" She asked as she inhaled slowly. When Sharon nodded in silent response, Pearl clasped her hands together and released the suppressed breath as though a sigh. Moments later, she spoke, her voice somewhat resigned. "Maybe it's time."

"Time?" Sharon asked. "Time for what?"

"Time for our family to finally find some peace in this whole sordid mess," Pearl said as she glanced back in the direction of the house. Seeing no one in the doorway, she led her daughter back in the direction of the garage.

As soon as they reached the desolate building, the teenager spoke. "I don't get it, I thought you were as against her marrying him as Daddy was."

"I was, but Sharon, your sister is twenty-four-years-old now, and she's not getting any younger. If she had gotten any older and stayed single; then only thing she might end up having is a room full of cats and a diary filled with lost memories. It's about time she learns to live with her choices, just like you will one day be given the opportunity to do as well." Pearl ran her hand through her curly hair. "The one thing you have to remember is that when a woman ties the knot, then her proper place is standing by her husband."

"I know that, but at first you and Daddy were angry about her getting married, and then you tried to keep it from me. Everything I found out about it was because of the silly blabber mouths here in town or from snooping. I should have heard it – from you." Sharon looked at her mother. "I don't get it; first you were against it, and now you're okay with it. Momma, can't you understand why I'm confused?"

"Yes, I suppose I can," Pearl conceded. "All the things that are happening are pretty much half expected. Your sister still has ties to this town, no matter where she lives. I have had some time to think this through ever since your daddy was in the hospital. During that time, I realized how I listened to and did everything he said because I felt obligated. The truth is, my opinions and feelings were always considered irrelevant, so I didn't speak of them to anyone at all."

"Are you saying that you disagreed with Daddy?" Sharon asked. "Is that it?" Before Pearl could so much as offer a response, she continued speaking. "It's strange, but I always thought you shared his views about everything."

"No not about everything," Pearl said. "The truth is, I've started telling him what I think, but every time I do, he accuses me of hounding or preaching at him. You see how angry your daddy gets when I talk about what the doctor says. Whenever I get onto him about the cigarettes and the smoking, I know it goes in one ear and out the other. The reason I do it is to show him that I care. For me, that's better than to have him believe that I don't."

"Then why do you say it if you know it going to upset him?" Sharon asked weakly.

"Because somewhere deep down inside, I want to believe that your daddy is not going to choose those damn cigarettes over the well being of his family." As she spoke, her eyes filled with tears.

Sharon watched her mother and was completely taken aback that she really felt this way. To the teenager, it felt quite liberating for her to hear Pearl speak with so much conviction and emotion. This was a rarity and if truth be told, a welcomed one.

Moments later, the elder of the two began to speak once again, this time her emotions were once more composed. "Sharon, I know that your daddy won't ever change because we've been married some twenty-seven-years and he's still the same person he always was."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?" Sharon asked weakly. "I mean; if I had known about what the doctors were saying or what was really going on, maybe I could have done something to help…" Her voice trailed off as Pearl interrupted.

"…It was not right for you to be worrying about this. Aside from that, you know how stubborn your daddy is, he wouldn't have heard of it." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "The truth of the matter is, I also didn't want you to go through some of the things I have been contending with."

"You've been trying to protect me. Is that it?"

"I tried," she said with an affirmative nod. "I sort of concluded that now that you have graduated high school, that you would want to go off to college or start courting boys. Contrary to what your daddy wants you to do with the store, I knew all along that you didn't need either of us to pressure you into a decision."

"But Momma, no matter what you thought, I did know what was going on," she whispered. "I've known about it ever since Daddy went to the hospital the first time. That's why I called Patty in the first place."

"You called?" Pearl asked. "Is that the reason why Patricia is here and all those telegrams that riled your daddy so showed up?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sharon whispered. "I called her because I felt alone and scared. You and Daddy weren't telling me anything. So, right after you had to take him to the hospital, I called and asked her to come. She said that her husband was a doctor and that he might be able to help me to understand what was going on."

"Did he?"

"No, because I got mad and hung up on her," Sharon confessed. "I don't remember anything that he might have said."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted Patty to come alone, but she insisted on bringing him with her and said that she would not be coming without him."

"They are married, Sharon, it would stand to reason that he'd be here, even if we don't like him very much," Pearl said. "I suppose you could say it's the same reason I want to be with your daddy when he goes to the hospital."

"But that's the reason they came," she began. "It was because I was scared and no one would talk to me about it." As she spoke, her voice trembled slightly when she felt the tears suddenly catching in her own eyes. "I'm sorry, Momma. When I tried to call them back to ask Patty not to come, this older man picked up the phone. I thought it was Anton, but it wasn't. Instead, he told me that he was Patty's father-in-law and that they had already left."

Pearl took a deep breath as she shook her head. "Perhaps if I hadn't have treated you like you had the intelligence of a bag of rocks, then you might have told me what you were thinking and feeling."

"Maybe," Sharon whispered.

"Then I should probably thank you."

"Thank me? But, why?"

"Because right now, more than ever before, we desperately need your sister here," Pearl said. "I know it may not do much, but if she and her daddy reconcile, then maybe it would help him in to face the future."

Sharon looked at her mother with unhidden surprise in her eyes. "I thought you'd be angry with me for calling her. I was afraid that you would scream and yell at me for having done that." As she spoke, Sharon could feel that her voice emanated the built up anger she had been carrying for the past few weeks. Without thinking, her next words emerged.

"You never wanted to go to their wedding and whenever you even mentioned him, you called him nasty names and acted as though he was the sworn enemy of all Jews. I also overheard people in town gossiping and figured that it was you and Daddy who started those rumors. You made me believe that Patty was a traitor and her husband was this awful inhumane monster. But, Momma, she's my sister and maybe Anton is not what any of us think. Maybe he's sort of brave for actually coming here and facing us."

"Perhaps, but I don't really know what sort of person he is, Sharon," Pearl conceded. "Maybe you can help me learn about him since you met him already."

"Why me?" She whispered. "I'm just as scared of him as you are."

Pearl looked into the eyes of her daughter. "Maybe, but I honestly don't think that he would judge you in the very same way he might judge me. After all, I said a lot of things that I shouldn't have, and most of which are things I thought your daddy wanted to hear. He's been through so much already, and I didn't want to make him more upset than he already was. I'm not just saying this because of Patricia being back here. Sharon, your daddy's been very sick, and right now, he needs to have her here so that he can begin to make peace with her, before…"

As Pearl's voice trailed off, Sharon looked at her. "You just sounded like Ruth."

"Much of what I'm saying probably does because when I talked to her, she made a good deal of sense. Strange, but I've been running into her in town probably more often then when she was working for us," Pearl said with a slight smile.

Within seconds, her happy expression disappeared and she looked at her daughter. "Sharon, I don't want you to go and mention any of this to your daddy, okay?"

"I won't," she whispered, but looked at her mother. "I wouldn't know what to say to him anyway. Lately, it just feels like I can't do anything right and I'm always walking on eggshells."

Instead of immediately speaking, Pearl reached over and rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I think right now you need to know the truth, and all of it."

"All of it?" Sharon's throat suddenly went dry.

"Yes, I'm afraid your daddy won't be with us for too much longer," Pearl confessed sadly. "That's why we've asked you to help at the store. Your daddy hasn't been upset with you because he's angry or annoyed with anything you've done, but because he's scared that he's going to die." She paused, the dramatic words hanging in the air as she took a deep breath and allowed her next words to emerge. "We both are."


	16. Chapter 16

_First of all, I wanted to give a shout out to Frogster whose review actually gave me another plot device to spring off in. Thanks so much for tossing out that idea, it really is a good one. But, I won't tell you what will happen, that's getting ahead of myself._

_Just hope everyone enjoys this latest installment. Please keep me posted on what you think. More reviews inspires me to post more chapters._

_Enjoy everyone. Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the last. I hope Ruth's dialogue doesn't sound fake or seem forced, she is the hardest character to write because of her manner of speech._

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_**Chapter 16**

As Sharon and her mother were speaking, Patty and Anton had entered the house behind Robert. As they came into the kitchen, she saw Ruth standing at the counter putting the finishing touches on the dinner. Without thinking of what she was doing, Patty rushed into the room and over to the older woman.

"Ruth?"

The heavyset woman turned around and smiled. "Patty Babe," she said as she felt the breath being forced from her when the younger woman wound her arms around her and held on. "I never thought I'd see the day when you two would come back to this tiny little ol' corner of the world."

Patty smiled as she felt her friend reciprocating her embrace. "I missed you, too, Ruth."

"Oh honey, you's just livin' your life, but I sees that you're bein' well provided for," she said as she smiled at Anton. He was still standing next to the door and regarding her through amused grayish blue eyes.

"So where are your friends hidin'?" Ruth asked as she tried to peer around where he was standing in the hopes of seeing someone else waiting to be greeted. "I thought you was comin' with a whole crew from New York."

"We would have brought them with us, but David and Kathy were tired and they wanted to get to the hotel, check in, and get some rest. They said that we could get together tomorrow and I'm certain that they would not come here without at least saying 'hello' to you," Anton said as he watched Patty and Ruth's embrace end and suddenly felt himself swallowed up in the heavyset woman's arms.

"You formal thing you," Ruth said smiling as she ruffled his hair in the same manner his mother had done when he was just a boy.

Anton laughed. "Well, some things never change, I'm afraid."

"That's good, honey, that's real good," she said smiling as she released her hold on him and returned her attention to the food that she was preparing. "Now, I hope you two brought your appetites with ya, 'cause I been cookin' for an entire regiment."

This time Robert laughed. "Well, I could eat my fill. I need some food to inspire my sermon. I been workin' so hard on it today, that I think the good Lord would be pleased."

"I reckon He will," Ruth said smiling. "Now, why don't you all just sit and I'll get some food on the table?" She chuckled from deep within her throat and started to move pots and pans from the hotplate to the table.

Once she had done this, she motioned for them to sit down.

As they all seated themselves at the table, Ruth extended both her hands to her son and Anton and watched as the two men accepted and offered their free hands to Patty, who accepted without hesitation. "Who'll ask the blessing?"

Patty looked at Ruth and took a deep breath. "Can I?"

"Of course, Honey Babe," Ruth said cordially as she ceremoniously bowed her head and waited.

After several moments, Patty spoke, her words surprising them all. "Lieber Gott, vielen Dank, für alle die gute Menschen dieser Welt. Bitte segne uns und das Essen, Amen." She squeezed Anton and Robert's hands before releasing them and raising her head.

It was at that precise moment when she noticed that her husband was staring and smiling proudly at her.

"What?" She eventually asked, her face lined with innocence.

"You've been practicing," he said with a smile on his face. "I suggested that you take a class in German at home, but I hardly expected you to start praying in German."

"Well, I thinks that the good Lord understands any language, honey," Ruth said smiling. It was clear that none of this fazed her at all. In fact, she seemed completely at ease about hearing the sounds of a language besides English in her home. "Tell us what your prayer said, Patty Babe?"

"Well, I got the 'dear God' and the 'many thanks' parts, but not the rest," Robert said openly.

"Well, I thinks that's enough, don't you?" Ruth asked.

Anton smiled at his hosts, but nodded as he offered a translation. "She said 'Dear God, thank You for all the good people in this world. Please bless us and this food, Amen'."

"That's beautiful, Honey," Ruth said.

"It is," Robert said with a concurring nod of his head. "Let's eat now, Momma, before your masterpiece gets cold." As if to emphasize his point, he reached for a spoon and started dipping himself a portion of the mashed potatoes.

Patty nodded and reached for a fork and stabbed herself a piece of chicken. "You always knew that fried chicken was my favorite."

"Yes, and I even made your favorite dessert," Ruth said smiling as she passed a bowl of corn to Anton. "But, one thing at a time."

Patty nodded as she placed the piece of chicken breast on her plate and passed the platter to her husband.

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After dinner was over, Patty and Anton remained in the kitchen in order to help their hostess clean the dishes while her son retreated to his room to continue working on, what he dubbed as being the hardest sermon of his career. Of course, Ruth later informed them that he said that every week.

For her part, Patty had refrained from speaking of her family until the meal was over and the dishes had been cleared away. She was not quite certain as to how to touch on these troubling issues. It was also no secret that Ruth had probably heard everything that went on in town and could eventually fill them both in. While there was a part of her that was not certain she really wanted to know, her curiosity could not be denied. Her questions continued to ravage her mind as the meal had progressed.

As contemplative silence descended on the room, Patty finished drying the last plate before handing it to Ruth. Once the older woman had put it away, she started to hang the towel on the rack. A slight tugging on the end of the piece of cloth stopped her in the act when she noticed that Anton was using it to dry his hands. Seconds later, he released it so that Patty could hang it on a rack. That done, they both went over to the table to sit down.

Once the three of them were comfortable, Ruth looked at the couple. "You've become awfully quiet the both of you," she remarked.

"It's been a long day," Anton said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

"No, it ain't just that," Ruth mused. "You wasn't so quiet during dinner, and it was still a long day. If I wasn't wrong, I'd say that you was both as chatty as you'd been that day in the Bergen's kitchen."

Anton took a deep breath. "You still remember?"

"As if it was yesterday," Ruth said, "but praise God it wasn't."

"It might as well have been," Patty whispered as she lowered her head and wavy brown hair hung down and framed either side of her face. "It feels like everyone's mad at us."

In response to this, Anton reached for her hand and once he held it, he began to rub it lovingly.

"What do you mean, Honey Babe?" Ruth asked, her voice laced in concern.

"We not only saw Sharon after we arrived in town," Anton began as he took a deep breath. As if anticipating her next question, he continued speaking. "We encountered several men at the train station and they were not there with the intention of offering us a warm reception, I'm afraid."

Patty nodded affirming her husband's words. "The group was led by Jimmy Wells."

Ruth took a deep breath. "I wouldn't worry too much 'bout him."

"But, Ruth, he wasn't alone," Patty objected. "I mean, those guys looked like they could have been the starting lineup for the Jenkinsville High School football team."

"That may be so, but Honey Babe, I want you to listen to old Ruth now," she began. "The fact that those fellows were there means very little. Ever since he done got out of school, Jimmy Wells ain't been doin' as well as you'd like to think. In fact, I thinks he's just been getting into trouble round here, 'cause he ain't got nothin' better to do."

"What do you mean?" Anton asked.

"Patty, do you remember when you said that Jimmy could have gotten every reward the boy scouts knows how to give?" Ruth asked.

"Yeah, it was the day Anton arrived in town. I will never forget that day, either," she said, but cast a glance towards where he was seated.

"Well, honey, there's a reason why Jimmy's behavin' this way. Soon after you left and went to Memphis to live with your grandma, word got around town that Jimmy was turned down to join the Marines. That was his dream, you know, to grow up and get accepted in that elitist crowd."

"Was there a reason why he was turned down?" Anton asked.

"About six months before he was expected to go, he and his buddies were out messin' things up in Wynne City and the whole bunch of 'em got caught by the law. I 'spose when the recruiter fella heard tell that he was messing things up there, he was none too pleased. Jimmy was denied and ever since then, he's gotten the reputation 'round town for being a bit of a drunk. The busybodies here talk, y'know."

"Is it possible that Jimmy's reaction towards us could have something to with his trying to save his reputation or get back on the good side of the local gossip?" Anton asked.

"I thinks that's a possibility," Ruth said with an affirming nod.

Patty looked at her. "I just wish I knew who was going around telling all of them about our coming. I mean; it's bad enough trying to resolve things with my parents, but having to deal with the rest of them is a bit much."

"If you want to know what I thinks, the main talker here in this here town is your momma," Ruth said bluntly. "God forgive me for judgin' her, but I thinks she's as much a gossip as Mrs. Benn. But, now it's worse, 'cause she can't keep it quiet. She goes and tells folks what she thinks they wanna hear, then she goes and changes her stories at the last minute. It's always been that way, baby, even when you was little."

Taking a deep breath Patty looked at each of them in turn. "You know, anymore, I don't know what we are even doing here. Maybe Sharon was right and no one really wants us around here. It seems obvious that my parents have disowned me. Why should I even care about my father at all?"

"Oh honey, you know you ain't here for him, you's here for your own peace of mind. Besides, if you haven't yet realized it, I wants you here, both of you. Maybe the good Lord's got some plans for bringin' you here too, so maybe you need to focus on that. There's work for you both here, and it ain't 'bout no listening to gossips or tryin' to figure out what makes your momma tick. You hear me talkin', girl?"

"Yes ma'am," Patty said, but instead of speaking further, she started to stand up and leave the room.

Once Anton and Ruth were alone, he looked at her. "Her mother is the core of the rumors?" He asked. Once she nodded, he continued. "Are you certain?"

"As sure as a person can get. I hears everything that goes on in this town, Anton, and Mrs. Bergen is the most jaded woman I've yet to meet. I wasn't gonna say anything to Patty about this, but I thinks she's got a right to know. The fact is, gettin' her momma to understand things is gonna be just as hard as tryin' to reach her daddy."

"What about Sharon?" Anton asked.

"Well, what I can tell you is whatever she tells her momma, you can bet the farm that her daddy's gonna find out every last word," Ruth said. "What the Missus hears, Mr. Bergen will most certainly hear, and it won't do no one a lick of good, either."

"You know that I suggested to Patty to come, but perhaps it was not such a good idea. I am starting to believe that perhaps something terrible is going to have to happen before Patty can believe that this was not all a mistake."

"Perhaps somethin' already is happenin', baby," she said as she reached over and touched his hand. As he felt her motherly hold, he raised his head and offered an unconvinced smile.


	17. Chapter 17

_Hello and welcome to the latest installment. I have good news and bad news for all of you. First the bad news, I am probably not going to be as active posting this in the coming days. The good news is I got another idea for another SoMGS story, which may actually be sort of interesting as well as a multi chapter effort. Of course, I will be working on this, and trying to get updates done, but I will possibly be writing it parallel to the other story. My writing time will be divided, but I will still be working on this and posting to it when I can. I do have an idea as to where this is going, so there will be new chapters._

_Stay tuned, but for now, do enjoy and please let me know what you think. This was the idea that Frogster gave me in the review. Hope you enjoy it.

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**Chapter 17**

The conversation with her mother was still reeling in Sharon's mind later that evening. After eating something substantial and grabbing an apple from the kitchen pantry, she started in the direction of her bedroom. As she climbed the stairs to her room, she yawned. It was at that moment when she realized just how tired she was.

It had really been a long day. Between moving the inventory around at the store, then seeing her sister and Anton, and finally opening up and really talking to her mother, the teenager was completely exhausted.

Now that the truth was out in the open and behind her, she could finally enjoy some semblance of relief. It was true that she hated keeping secrets from her family, but she also knew that there were moments when she had to. Especially given her father's explosive temperament. Although she really loved her parents, she feared her father. If he knew the extent of what she had told her mother, he would most definitely resort to physical violence.

Her conscience had been literally screaming at her to not confess to calling Patty when she had spoken with her mother, but now what was done, was done, and she could do very little about it.

Reaching her bedroom door and opening it, she suddenly stopped when she heard the familiar voices of her parents filtering out into the hallway from their own room. Abruptly, Sharon stopped moving.

Usually, she was not curious about her parents' discussions, but for some reason, she felt compelled to stop everything, including breathing, and listen intently. It had been this way for sometime, but during this particular evening, her teenage curiosity seemed unquenchable.

Stepping closer to her parents' closed door, she leaned against the door without touching, or making so much as a sound. After all, if they knew she was eavesdropping, then her father would have had a fit, and then her mother would have blamed her for his health problems.

Remembering what her mother had confided in her earlier that evening; Sharon knew that breaking her side of the confidences was the last thing any of them needed. She intended on keeping her end of the deal and not say a word. Pearl Bergen apparently had other motives in mind, though.

"Now, regardless of what I'm about to tell you, you've got to try and stay calm, Harry," she was saying.

"How can I stay calm when I come home from a hard day's work to discover that my only daughter is no better than that other one?" Harry's loud voice emerged as his question filled the hallway.

Sharon froze when she heard this. 'Only daughter?' She mouthed to the stillness. I am not their only daughter, she inwardly fumed, in fact, if reason did not invade her mind, she would have burst into the room to give her father a piece of her mind.

Moments passed and her intentions were shattered when Harry's next question emerged. "What else did she tell you?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. She's been spending a lot of time at that room over the garage and I have been trying to find out for days what she is up to. She claims that she is reading and thinking."

"That's what she told me when I asked her where she had been the other day," Harry said dryly, "but that don't sound like Sharon at all."

"No, you're right, it doesn't, but that's not the worst of it," Pearl responded.

"The worst of it?" Harry asked. "Pearl, are you and Sharon keeping things from me?"

"No, but Sharon most certainly is," Pearl said matter-of-factly.

At that moment, Sharon's face went completely white. She's telling him, her thoughts were ravaging her conscience, and he's going to get mad and beat the crap out of me. She started to back away from the door, but stopped when Pearl's words continued.

"Harry, you were wondering why it is that Patricia and that Nazi are coming here to visit, well, it was Sharon who called and asked her to come back."

"Why the hell would she do something like that?" Harry asked.

"I think she was afraid that you were going to die," Pearl said. "I don't know where she got that idea from. You're just fine, just a little stressed."

Sharon shook her head and looked down at the ground. She told me that he was dying, now she's turning everything around. I don't understand, the teenager thought as her parents' conversation continued.

"Why was she saying all this stuff?" Harry asked. "I am getting enough hell at the store about this with people telling me I should sit down and take a break and not get so worked up." His words ceased for several moments and Sharon sighed.

The only people who were doing that were Sister Parker and her mother, she thought as her father's words continued.

"So is there anything else?"

"Not much," Pearl said. "Of course, that was before I told her that I didn't always agree with you."

"You told her that?" Harry asked, his voice laced in skepticism.

"It was the only way I could get her to really talk to me, Harry," she said in a low voice. Sharon found herself having to inch her way even closer to the door to hear what her mother was saying. Maybe she knows I am listening in, the teenager thought, as she moved her hair aside to listen.

"It was purely a tactic I learned from all those years of telling lies in the store to those dreadful elephantine women who try and stuff themselves into a size eight dresses. 'Oh but, Miz Jenson, you look simply lovely in that dress', I say, but what I really think is that she looks like a wrapped potato ready to go into the oven and be served with a side of sour cream. It has helped me make some pretty big sales, too."

"Why would Sharon buy into such a ridiculous story?" Harry asked.

"I don't really know, but she did," Pearl said with a slight giggle. "It's like I said just now, you tell people what they want to hear, and they will fall at your feet like a house of cards. Sharon went and lowered her guard long enough to tell me what I suspected all along. It was not Ruth who called Germany and asked Patricia to come back; it was Sharon."

"Well, whatever the case, when I get my hands on her, I'm going to make her wish she had never learned how to use the phone or snoop in things that are not any of her business."

"You can't just go and start beating her up, Harry," Pearl objected.

"And why not?" He asked.

"Well, for starters, Sharon is eighteen, and you know perfectly well that if you so much as raised a fist to her; she would probably leave and never come back," Pearl said. "Besides, you and I both know that with the doctor appointments and such, we need to have her here to run the store. If she leaves, then we would have to worry about paying a temporary worker."

Sharon's face went another shade whiter. Is that all I am to them? She asked herself as she took a deep breath. Nothing more than cheap labor to help save their precious business?

Angry tears began to stream down her cheeks as she backed further away from the door and started to stumble her way back down the hallway and into her bedroom. All this time, I thought I could trust my own mother enough to confide in her, but instead she treats me like I'm naive and stupid.

Freddy Dowd had been right all along, her parents were snobs. Worse still, they were using every scheming tactic that they could to make her feel like a slave. As the hurt and anger completely encompassed her, Sharon took a deep and staggering breath.

Mother was right about one thing, I am leaving, she thought sadly to herself as she reached her bedroom door. It was still ajar so she entered, turned, and closed herself inside. If only I could figure out where it is I'm supposed to go, she thought sadly.

She made her way over to the window and peered outside. Across the way was the garage. As she stared at it, she felt another idea forming in her mind. I'll use some of my graduation money and buy a train ticket to somewhere that is not here.

Without contemplating any further as to her options, Sharon got down on all fours and started groping about under the bed in search of her suitcase. Finding it, she pulled it out, and haphazardly tossed it on the bed, thus allowing it to fall open. Once on her feet, she went over to her dresser and opened it before retrieving her undergarments and carelessly tossing them into the suitcase.

They are nothing but liars, she thought angrily as she continued to throw her most important articles of clothing inside the object on her bed. As she finished the task, she closed and zipped it. She then went over and opened a small jewelry box and pulled out an envelope.

Inside it was the card and money her grandparents had given to her for graduation. The money was intended for college, but anymore she did not care. Extracting the bills from the card, she reached for her purse and swung it over her shoulder. This money would get her somewhere, she concluded as she felt the tears that had gotten caught in her eyes.

Next, she gripped the handle of her luggage and pulling it off the bed, she started to make her way towards the bedroom door.

Reaching it, she pressed her ear against it in order to listen for the sounds of one, or both, of her parents. Hearing nothing, she slowly opened the door and peering around it, she released a sigh of relief when she noticed that no one was out in the hallway.

Slowly, she made her way towards the stairs when the door to her parents' room suddenly opened. Without thinking, she quickened her pace and stumbled down the stairs at a record pace. She reached the landing just as her father came out into the hallway, his voice breaking the stillness that seemed to swallow the entire house. From where she was, she could hear him rapping loudly on her bedroom door.

"Sharon Marie Bergen, get your butt out here, I want to talk to you," he bellowed, his intimidating sounding voice echoing off the walls.

Ignoring this, Sharon raced towards the front door, opened it, and raced outside into the darkness.

The only response to her father's threatening tone was the resounding slam of the front door.

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Outside, the teenager started to walk up the street in the direction of the train station. Realizing that the ten fifteen was to be the last train to come into town that night, she cast a glance down at her watch. It read that it was half past eight, and sitting at the train station waiting for close to two hours was not something she necessarily wanted to do.

Also given how the rumors got started in Jenkinsville, this would no doubt look somewhat strange if one of the locals were to see her waiting that long for a train to come. With this realization in mind, Sharon took a deep breath as she tried to figure out where she could lay low until the train would arrive.

At the same instant, she knew that going back into the house was completely out of the question. No doubt would her father be enraged that she had actually ignored his request. For whatever reason, she knew that to go back would equate to a beating and it did not matter what her age happened to be. In that particular frame of mind, Sharon concluded that it would probably be better for her to stay out of sight.

Maybe I could go to Memphis, her thoughts shifted as she recalled the number of hours that she had busied herself at her parents' store. That experience alone might insure me a chance of getting a job, she thought.

Of course, pondering the situation with her parents was the last thing Sharon really wanted to do.

Her thoughts shifted back to her sister and her husband who were in town and probably staying at Ruth's house. Should she try and contact Ruth? She pondered. At that moment, it no longer mattered what her parents thought, she was now worried about Patty being here and what the possible repercussions might be. It was because I asked her to come, she thought sadly as she shook her head. No, going to Ruth's would not be a wise decision since she had a such a small house with many guests.

She remembered the conversation she had had with Anton's father and the level of understanding and wisdom that had emanated from his words. Would his son be the same way? Would he have run away from this situation or stand his ground and fight? The questions continued to ravage her mind and after several moments had passed, she looked around the area and started walking back in the direction she had come.

There was really no other option. I'll go lay low in the room over the garage, and then when it gets closer to the right time, I'll get on a train and put all of this behind me. Maybe Patty did have the right idea when she left.

Slowly, she made her way back through the yard and over towards the garage. Reaching it, she opened the door and entered. As she closed the door behind her, she brought her suitcase into the darkened room and placed it in the shadows along the adjacent wall. Keeping her purse draped over her shoulder, she crossed the room and began to climb the stairs that led into the hideout.

Once she had reached the landing, she walked slowly across the room and sat down on the sofa. As she felt the lumpiness of it beneath her weight, she took a deep breath.

"Where should I go?" She asked the stillness. "I can't just sit here and wait for inspiration, I need to have a plan."

As her soft voice filled the room, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes. "I hate my life," she whispered. "How much of it was nothing more than a lie, and how much of it is really the truth?"

She picked up the book that was next to where she was seated and opened it. Throughout the past week, she had been busying herself with this book, and now a small white slip of paper was stuck between the pages. This marked where she had stopped reading the last time she had sat there and occupied herself with it.

As she settled herself to read some more of the essays, she tried without much success at blocking out the words she had overheard up at the house. Never in her young life had she felt this betrayed.

After some time reading, Sharon took a deep breath and stretched herself out on the sofa, her body cradling the book. The long day had finally caught up with her. Exhaustion won out as Sharon Bergen allowed her eyes to close.

Seconds later, she drifted off to sleep as the intended plans she had concocted in her mind went completely ignored.


	18. Chapter 18

_Here's the next update to the story. Thanks to everyone who reviewed it. I really find your reviews very helpful, and it is very encouraging for me to be able to continue writing knowing that people are reading this. Hope this next chapter is enjoyable to you.

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**Chapter 18**

It was close to five in the morning when Anton opened his eyes. He turned to see that Patty was sound asleep next to him, her face pressed against the pillow and her arms draped casually over her head. For several moments, he listened to the soft sighs emerging from her, thus indicating that she was sound asleep.

Focusing, he managed to see the shadows from outside playing across the walls of their room. Casting a glance back towards his wife, he smiled slightly. At least she can sleep, he thought as a fond smile touched his lips.

He slowly crawled out of bed, walked over to the chair and grabbed the pants he had worn the day before. One he had pulled them on, he reached for a shirt. With it still in his hands, he started to pad his way across the room in the direction of the door.

Stepping out into the living room, he put on the shirt before beginning to button it. Finishing, he cast a glance over towards the door leading into Robert's bedroom.

Blinking several times, Anton noticed that the light was shining out from underneath the door. Without thinking of what he was doing, he approached and tapped lightly on it. Seconds later, it opened and a very confused Robert was standing and looking out at him.

"Is somethin' wrong?" He asked as he took in Anton's somewhat tousled appearance. "You didn't forget your pajamas, did ya?"

"No, I just couldn't sleep," Anton admitted. "I'm rather used to getting up early, actually. At home I usually get up at five and go to work at six."

"Well, the only mornin' I have to be up that early is Easter Sunday," he said smiling. "I just put in what some call an all-nighter. But, don't tell Momma, she thinks I come here to work. I'm actually here for the food. I ain't the world's greatest cook, y'know."

"Your secret's safe with me," Anton said smiling.

"So what'cha doin'?" Robert wanted to know.

"I thought I'd go for a walk, but I didn't want to leave without saying something to someone. I don't wish for anyone to worry. Would you tell Patty that I will be back before we have to go and meet David and Kathy at nine?"

"I'll let 'er know when she gets up," Robert offered as he backed his way into his room. "It should be getting light soon."

Anton nodded and started towards the front door as the light from Robert's room diminished because the minister had closed the door. Once his eyes had managed to adjust to the disappearance of light, Anton glanced outside through the window next to the front door.

Stepping outside through the screen door, Anton took in the area. It was much darker than he anticipated, but he could still make out the lines and shadows being cast off by the moon.

He walked slowly away from Ruth's house, his steps slow and deliberate as he recalled the events in the past that still affected him so profoundly. In the distance, the sound of a dog barking jarred him back to the night he had been on the run. He had come very close to being captured, only to discover that he had somehow made it across the border and into Canada.

It had been a night similar to this one, the humid air of late summer literally encasing him and making him long for two things; a place to sleep and a shower. Today, he could have had them both, but back then, acquiring these simple necessities was nothing short of a miracle.

Running his hands through his hair, Anton walked towards the center of town. In the back of his mind, he wondered how many times during the course of his walk would he have to convince himself that he was no longer a fugitive and the Americans were no longer the enemy.

Taking a deep breath, he found himself walking along Main Street, the place looked to be closed up with not so much as a street lamp to light his way. From one side of the street, he could see that the buildings were silhouetted by darkness, their shapes reminding him of the scenes that emerged straight out of scary movies.

He continued to walk until something overtly familiar came into view. It was the house where Patty had lived all those years ago. The structure appeared not as threatening as he remembered, but instead of repelling him, it drew him closer.

In the distance, a rooster crowed, thus reminding him that dawn would be breaking very soon. He reached the chipped fence and stood staring into the yard.

As memories flooded his mind, he started to walk around the perimeters of the yard in the direction of the garage. As the building beckoned him to come closer, he could see in the distance that dawn was finally breaking.

Without thinking about what he was doing, he walked slowly towards the rustic door that led into the garage. As he came inside, he could see that jars of jams and marmalades lined the wooden shelves, which extended from one side of the room to the other. He could also make out various plants that were being housed there. It appeared as though the Bergen family was using these extra rooms to house sensitive plants that could perhaps handle the humidity, but not the direct sunlight.

Slowly, he walked towards the ladder that would lead him up to the rooms that Patty had hidden him in all those years ago. Swallowing, he reached out, his hand grasping the uneven wood that acted as a step. He slowly made his way up the steps. When he reached the landing, what saw him made his mouth open in astonishment.

In one corner of the room was Patty's sister, Sharon. She was lying in the fetal position on the sofa, her body literally curled around a small blue colored book. Coming more fully into the room, he approached and could see that her eyes were closed and her arms were pressed against her as though she was cold.

Recovering from his initial surprise, Anton started looking around the familiar dwelling in search of a blanket. Finding a small one draped over a nearby chair, he picked it up and began to shake it out before returning to the girl's side.

Once he had covered her with it, he started back towards the door leading out of the room. Perhaps I ought to leave, instinct reminded him. Given how terrified she had been earlier, there was no telling what would happen if she were to wake up and find me here, his thoughts continued. That would stand to reason as to why I should not be here at all.

He started to make his way over towards the stairs that would lead down to the first level. As he was making this hasty sort of exit, Sharon had started to shift her weight around as though about to wake up.

Anton froze, his breath held and his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Who's there?" She eventually spoke after noticing that the blanket was now draped over her body. She started to shove it aside, but stopped when she saw his shadow amidst the gloom of the darkened room.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't realize anyone was up here."

"That doesn't answer my question," she whispered.

"My name is Anton," he said.

"You're Patty's husband?" She asked. "I mean; the guy who was with her earlier?"

"Yes," he said.

"W-why are you even here?" She asked as she sat up on the sofa.

"In Jenkinsville?" He replied with a question of his own. Instead of waiting for her to respond, he continued. "Your sister did not wish to come back here alone."

"No, not that, I-I mean…here." She motioned with her hand as though indicating the room.

"I couldn't sleep," he said truthfully. "I decided that instead of tossing and turning this morning that I'd get up and go for a walk. In doing that, I somehow ended up here."

"This morning?" Sharon asked. "W-what time is it?"

"About six in the morning," he said.

"Six in the morning?" She whispered. "It can't be."

"It is," Anton said, but instead of coming closer, he remained next to the door as though intending to leave her. In fact, as he started to climb his way back down, she spoke, her voice trembling as it filled the room.

"Y-you don't have to leave because of me."

Anton nodded, but took note that her stance had not changed a single bit. In fact, her fear was quite evident and he could tell that she would have run if he had not been blocking her only means of escape. Perhaps these words had merely emerged because she was afraid of leaving the hideout and being confronted by him out in the yard.

Whatever the case, there was something in her manner that made him want to leave immediately. "I think I should go," he began, his voice laced in simplicity. "You are afraid of me and that is not the proper way for us to become acquainted."

Sharon silently looked away, her eyes closing unconsciously. "Is this the place where you hid?" She eventually asked. Before he could offer a response, she spoke again, her words trying to offer him some clarification. At that moment, she extended the book of essays towards him. "I-I found this about a week ago when I came up here the very first time. I looked inside the cover and saw the stamp from the prison camp and sort of figured that maybe it had once belonged to you."

Anton slowly walked across the room before accepting the ragged object that she was offering. Once he held it, he lowered himself in a chair that was on the opposite side of the room.

Once seated, he slowly began flip through the book as she regarded the concentrated look that shadowed his face. When he saw the slip of paper that was sticking out near the center of the book, he raised his head and looked at her, a question looming.

"I've been sort of reading it," she said with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

"Sort of?" He asked.

"Okay, you'll probably think I'm stupid like everybody else around here, but I like to read," she admitted.

"It's not stupid at all. In fact, I think it's rather nice that you do," he began. After taking a deep breath he continued. "So, what do you think of this book?"

As this question emerged, he checked to make certain that the bookmark was still in its proper place before closing and extending it back to her.

"I really like it," she admitted as she accepted the offered object. "I mean; he wrote a lot of stuff that makes me think." A pause. "Is that why you had it? Was it food for thought?"

"Yes, Emerson is actually one of my favorite writers," Anton said. "I read this book during the summer when your sister protected me. Later, when I got home, I found a copy of the same work translated in German."

"Why did Patty protect you?" Sharon whispered. "I mean; she knew…" her voice trailed.

"…That I was the enemy?" Anton finished for her.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Today I know it's stupid, because the war is over and all, but back then…" Instead of speaking further, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I know, and to be completely honest, I don't really know why she helped me either. The fact that she did demonstrates that she was a very caring and trusting individual. I was always very grateful to her for her friendship. You see, when one fights to survive, as was the case back then, then it is quite nice to have a friend to speak to; to share hopes and aspirations with," Anton said. "Although I had seen her being hurt and abused, she never stopped demonstrating her courage and strength."

Sharon swallowed as she took in his words. "Was she really like that? What I mean is, I don't really remember very much because I was so little."

"She was very brave and courageous, but more importantly; she still is."

"The only things I really know about her are the things I was told," she admitted.

"That can certainly form drastic opinions of a person or a culture, can it not?" He asked, his voice direct, but strangely unassuming.

"There was no one else to offer a contrary argument," Sharon shot back, her words taking on a defensive tone. She turned away from him and started to crawl off the sofa and make her way towards the door.

Anton took a deep breath. "Perhaps there was not, but I can truthfully say that your sister was never swayed by prejudice or hate. She would not run away from another person because people told her that she had to think in the same manner as they did. It was that quality in her that made her a hero in my eyes."

"A hero?" Sharon stopped and turned around. "Everyone here kept saying that she was traitor."

"Perhaps to their ways of thinking, she was, but what do you think?" He asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I mean; back then she was just a kid and no one really paid any attention to her. My father always said that children should be seen and not heard. I pretty much concluded that most grownups were like that."

"That's a very foolish sort of philosophy for anyone to have," Anton said bluntly. "It simply gives people more rationale to not listen; particularly in the wake of said child having been hurt or subjected to pain."

"I never thought of it that way," she whispered. "I guess it makes sense, though. Just don't tell my parents I said that. Not that it matters anyway, because I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" He asked, but after some moments of silence passed between them, his next question emerged. "Are you that afraid of me?"

"No," she began. "It's not about you, it's something else."

Anton leaned towards her and noticed the sadness that literally was swallowing her up. He took a deep breath and spoke, his inquiry emerging. "Sharon, what happened?"

"It's nothing," she spoke, her voice cracking.

"That does not sound like 'nothing'," he said. "You're clearly upset."

"Maybe, but why should you care?"

"It may surprise you, but I do care," Anton said firmly. "You are, after all, my sister-in-law, and whether your family wishes to acknowledge it, that fact remains."

"I guess, when you put it that way, I can tell you," she whispered more to herself than to him. "I-I mean; we are family, aren't we?"

"Yes we are," he said with a nod.

"I'm sorry I wasn't very nice to you," she whispered.

"I don't blame you for that," he said, his voice laced in a cross between matter-of-factness and simplicity. "I am only sorry that I frightened you."

"Maybe I shouldn't have run away like I did," she whispered. "I mean; Ruth kept on telling me that you were alright. I just didn't know who I was supposed to believe. I guess I still don't."

Anton took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you feel this way, Sharon." He truly felt sad because she looked as though she was completely torn between the truth and the rumors that somehow blanketed the town.

"You are?" She asked, her question bringing him out of his reverie. Without thinking, she raised her head and looked at him.

"Of course," he nodded affirmatively. "Does that surprise you?"

"In a way, but I still have a question," she began. After several moments of silence, she continued. "You said that you admired my sister's courage, but that wasn't why you married her, was it?"

"No," he said with an adamant shake of his head. "While I have always known that your sister is a genuinely loving person, I realized a great deal about her after she came to Germany to find me. I discovered how much I loved her when I saw her standing in a reception room in Hamburg holding to the ring I had given her all those years ago. That sort of courage was something I never possessed, but still admired. This has continued even after she agreed to be my wife and begin a new life with me," He smiled fondly at these recollections. "Later, after you had called her the first time, I suggested to her that we come back here, so that she could find resolution with your parents. I don't believe that she deserved to be made into an outcast because she is not like them."

"You can forget about that ever happening," Sharon said miserably. "They don't seem to care about Patty at all. My father even said that I was their only daughter and he meant it, but…"

"…But what?"

Sharon took a deep breath. "I'm not their only daughter. I mean; she's my sister and I love her."

"I understand," Anton said softly. "I truly do, Sharon. In fact, I understood the bond you and Patty share far more than you presently realize."

She looked over at him, and for the first time since all of this had started, what she saw was a man who was honest and caring. This is my brother-in-law, she thought as she licked her lips and tried to find her voice. "That means you really do love her, don't you? I mean; so much that you would give your life for her."

"Yes," he nodded. "That's precisely what it means."

"You know something?"

Anton took a deep breath, but waited for her to continue speaking. When she did not, he inhaled slowly. "What's that?"

"I'm glad that you do, because she deserves it." As she spoke, she could feel the tears as they streamed down her cheeks. " I mean; everybody here's telling me how I should feel about her, but I don't feel that way."

"Sharon, perhaps right now, you have to think and feel what is right for you," he said. "Don't put your faith into what other people expect or wish. You must decide for yourself what is right. Perhaps what it is you have read in Emerson's work has left a far more profound impact on you than you consciously realize."

"Maybe," she began as the tears continued to sting her eyes. "It's just – there's so much I don't understand. My parents told me that you were not a good person and I believed them, but now you're sitting here talking to me and you're being nice…" Her voice trailed off yet again as she tried to get her words to match the thoughts that were wrecking havoc on her conscience.

"Why would I not be nice?" Anton asked as he leaned forward meaningfully.

She shrugged her shoulders but could not bring herself to speak. She feared that if she did, that she would start crying and it did not seem right to cry in front of him. After all, brother-in-law or not, she barely knew him.

Instead of getting up and coming over to seat himself next to her, he clasped his hands together and regarded her through kind bluish gray eyes. "Your sister told me something very similar more than a decade ago," he said. "Perhaps you and she have far more in common than either of you realize."

"Then maybe that's why she helped you, because you were being nice to her," she mused. "Not very many people were. They thought I didn't notice because I was just a little kid, but I did and I didn't like it."

"So it would seem that although the war is over, there exists another kind of conflict raging inside of you."

"It doesn't matter if there is, up to now, nothing has helped," she whispered.

"Look at me, Sharon," he said. Throughout their dialogue, she had been looking everywhere but at him.

Before continuing to speak, Anton got to his feet and went over to where she was seated and crouched down in front of her. "Do you want to know what the truth is?"

She closed her eyes and without thinking, she shook her head.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Because the last time someone asked me that question, it was my momma, and she told me that my Daddy was dying," she whispered. "Then later I found out that probably most of what she had said to me had been a lie."

"Your mother lied to you?" He asked.

Sharon nodded and without thinking of what she was doing or why, she began to relate to him what she had overheard the night before. "That's why I said that I don't know what the truth was," she finished speaking, before taking a deep breath.

"And this is why you said that you were intent on leaving," he said with an understanding nod.

"I don't know what else to do. Right now, I just want to feel better about everything, but can't. Instead I just end up feeling stupid."

Anton took a deep breath as he regarded the confused teenager. "Well, I think you do know what is right, because your conscience is telling you. The question is, are you willing to listen to what it is saying?"

"I want to, but I'm scared," Sharon said as her eyes filled with tears.

"Fear to face the truth is natural," he said.

"Well, then it's telling me to face this and not run away," she whispered.

Anton smiled and nodded as he stood back up. "Are you going to heed this suggestion?"

She nodded. "Yes, but…Anton, will you help us?"

"Help you?" He asked. "How can I help you?"

"By finding out what the truth is," she whispered.

"What makes you so certain that I can uncover that when your parents don't even like me?" He asked.

Sharon looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "You have nothing to lose, but I could lose everything," she said simply.


	19. Chapter 19

_I just got back from a week long holiday, thus, my not posting any installments, but I did work on some of the story while in Büsum. Hope you enjoy this._

_Just for the record, Liebling means beloved or darling.

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**Chapter 19**

It was half past eight when Anton left the hideout and made his way back up the street towards Ruth's house. The conversation with Sharon was still ravaging his mind as he walked. How can I help them resolve anything when the parents still live in the past and act as though it is still 1944 and I am the enemy? He asked himself.

Seconds later, he reached the front door and tapped lightly on it. He waited for several seconds until the door swung open and he found himself looking into his wife's concerned eyes. "Anton, w-where have you been? I woke up a little while ago and you were gone."

"Didn't Robert tell you?" Anton asked. "I just went for a walk around town. I didn't mean to make you worry, Liebling."

"He probably would have said something, but Ruth said that an emergency came up at the church and he had to leave before I woke up," she whispered, her expression softening somewhat. "So where did you go?"

"I just walked up the main street," Anton said softly. "I didn't intend to make you worry, that's why I asked Robert to tell you where I had gone." He took a deep breath as he reached for her hand and gave it a loving squeeze. He could instinctively tell that Patty was frightened and so he released his hold so as to wrap her in his arms.

Once she had relaxed in his hold, he inhaled slowly. He was not quite certain how to touch on the subject of Patty's sister or the conversation they had shared, but knowing that honesty was important, he spoke, his words soft contrary to their earnest undertone. "There is something that I should tell you, though."

"Something bad?" She asked as she braced herself for the worst.

"No, this is something quite good, actually," his expression shifted away to reveal a happy smile. "While I was out taking a walk, I ended up at the hideout and I found Sharon asleep there. It would seem that she had intended on running away last night, but fell asleep before she could follow through with it."

"She was going to run away?" She asked. "Why?"

He took a deep breath. "I can't really say, but given what she told me, she felt betrayed, upset, and very confused."

Patty looked at him, her gaze intent. "There has to be more to it than just that. I mean; I've been confused lots of times, but I didn't run away just because of it."

"You almost did," he said gently as he reminded her of the day they had been reunited.

Patty remained in his arms. "You never grow tired of repeating that, do you?"

Anton responded with a jaunty grin, and Patty remembered the day they first met and she had sold him the cheap piece of glass jewelry. "I thank my lucky stars that I didn't," she murmured, but raised her head. "So what did she tell you?"

"Among other things, she confided that your mother is not the world's greatest when it comes to keeping another person's confidence or simply being a supportive soul."

"Let me guess, she snitched on Sharon and got her into trouble, is that it?" Patty asked. Before Anton could so much as offer a response, she shook her head. "That is just so typical of her. Some things never change."

"Well, think about what Ruth said last night after dinner," he began. "Neither of us should be surprised by this because it seems rather the norm with her," Anton said and smiled gently at her. "Although Sharon has been hurt by it, at least we know that she is starting to recognize that we are here to help and you came back because she asked."

Patty took a deep breath. "Maybe, but something still worries me."

"What?"

"Well, my father used to beat me black and blue for a far cry less than that," Patty said. "Let's just say that if he beats up on Sharon, I may completely lose it."

Before he could so much as offer a response, Ruth appeared in the doorway. "Well, ain't that nice that you decided to come back to us?" she began. "Patty done thought we gone and scared you away."

Anton shook his head, but offered a mischievous grin. "No, given my experiences, I no longer scare that easily. I just had a case of insomnia."

"In-what?" The older woman asked. "Is you just bein' all fancy-like with me again because you knows it sticks in my craw?"

In response to that, Anton began to chuckle.

"It's not all that fancy, Ruth, it's just another word for someone who can't sleep," Patty supplied.

Ruth nodded. "Well, Doctor Anton, you just get yourself into that there kitchen and I'll make up some griddle cakes for breakfast. You can't be running around in this here heat without some kind of breakfast."

"I don't want to put you out, Ruth," Anton started to object, even though the thought held a great deal of appeal. He could still remember the taste of her homemade pancakes and they were one of the best breakfasts he had ever had. "It will have to be quick as we have to meet David and Kathy at the hotel at nine."

Ignoring this and with a firm hand, Ruth shooed the couple back through the doorway and in the direction of the kitchen.

Conceding, Anton soon found himself back at the table. As soon as he was sitting down, Patty went over to the pantry and retrieved him a coffee cup. Stopping at the stove, she poured a generous supply of the black colored liquid into the cup and then placed it on the table in front of him. She then seated herself at the table next to him so that Ruth could finish making breakfast without having her underfoot.

As the older woman worked, Patty looked at her husband. "Now, you have to tell me what specifically happened when you talked to Sharon."

Ruth stopped what she was doing and turned around. "You did?" She asked, but waited for him to respond before turning back around and flipping one of the pancakes over.

Anton nodded. "I ended up back at the hideout while I was out exploring. Sharon was asleep inside the main room. Anyway, I did not anticipate encountering anyone there, but I did."

"She was asleep there? Why would she fall asleep in that room?" Ruth asked, disbelief in her eyes. She turned back towards the stove and continued with his breakfast.

"No idea, Ruth, but I am of the impression that Sharon intended on running away," Anton said honestly. "I managed to talk her out of it, though."

"That's good that you did," Ruth said. "But, now you gonna tell us why you went back there so early in the morning?"

"I can't say with certainty why, perhaps I was feeling rather nostalgic and wanted to climb into the room and see if it was as I remembered," he offered freely.

Patty nodded and watched as Ruth placed a plate in front of him and he began to eat. Between bites, he looked at Ruth. "These are just as good as I remember."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Just like I's remember, you have appetite for food, and this here child eats like a bird."

Anton smiled, but finished the pancakes in silence while Ruth periodically checked his cup and refilled it.

After about twenty minutes, they suddenly heard the sound of someone knocking at the front door. Ruth checked her watch and seeing that it was nearly nine, she looked at the couple and spoke. "Was your friends coming to meet you here?"

"No," Patty said as she glanced down at her own watch. "We were just going to go and meet them, actually."

"Well, I can't hardly keep anyone a-waitin' outside now, can I?" Quickly, Ruth left them alone and went to answer the door.

As soon as she was gone, Patty looked at Anton. He was sipping his coffee, but stopped when she spoke. "I wonder who that could be," she pondered. "Ruth said she wasn't expecting anyone. In fact, she told me after I got up that she had a ton of laundry to do and that she would probably be working on it all day long."

Anton shrugged his shoulders. "No idea," he said as he finished the coffee and Ruth came back into the room. When he saw her face, he got to his feet and went over to her. "Ruth, are you alright?"

"Patty Babe, I thinks you need to come with me," she began, her voice strained.

Nodding, Patty got to her feet, but cast a nervous glance towards her husband before following her friend out into the living room.

* * *

As soon as Patty came out into the room, she saw Sharon sitting on the sofa, her head lowered and her eyes practically staring holes into the rug on the floor.

"Sharon?" She asked as the girl raised her head. As soon as the two sisters made eye contact, Patty suddenly felt the long-suppressed rage beginning to build up inside of her.

Unlike the day before, Sharon's stance was an overwhelming depiction of intimidation and hurt, but what Patty could not get over was her sister's uncharacteristically tousled hair and the redness of her face. Coming closer, Patty could tell that her sister had been crying, but the reason for her red features and moist face was the purplish colored skin that surrounded one of her eyes.

As Patty approached, Ruth quickly excused herself saying that she was going to look for something that might help.

Patty nodded wordlessly as she went over to her sister and seated herself next to her. Without thinking, she reached over and lightly touched the skin just below the purplish hue. When the younger girl cringed and fresh tears streamed down her face, Patty found her voice. "How did this happen, Sharon?" She asked. Instead of her voice being laced in concern, her words had emerged as more or less a demand.

"I f-fell when I came down the ladder from the room over the garage," Sharon said as her uninjured eye shamefully closed. As it did, even more tears escaped from beneath the lids. "I'm so clumsy."

"Don't lie to me," Patty said sharply. Try as she might, she simply could not compose herself much longer. She knew precisely what had happened, and given what her husband had just said, she figured that Sharon would probably have been better off running away instead of staying. "Tell me what really happened." She tried with all her might to keep her words level and controlled, but this was proving very difficult.

"Are you mad at me, Patty?" Sharon whispered.

"Not at you," Patty said, her voice softening somewhat. It was clear that she was trying to keep herself composed, but seeing how the teenager looked only contributed to the animosity she still carried against her parents. "Just tell us what happened."

"I c-can't," she whispered, her lips trembling as Ruth returned to the living room, a raw steak in her hands. She approached where they were seated and handed the meat to Patty.

"You can't or you won't?" Patty asked as she accepted the proffered meat and leaned towards her sister in order to press it against her swollen eye.

"That smells strange," she whispered all the while trying to keep the extent of her pain hidden from her sister.

"Maybe it does, but it should help get the swelling down," Patty said gently, her stance never faltering. "Now, how did you end up getting hurt like this?"

As she spoke, Anton had followed Ruth out into the room and seeing Sharon, he approached where she was seated, the doctor in him instantly taking control of the situation. "Let me have a look," he said softly.

Patty lowered the meat and watched as Anton sat down on the floor and looked into the face of the teenager. When she kept her head lowered, he leaned over and spoke. "Tell me if this hurts," he said as he lightly brushed his fingertips against her cheekbone.

When she cringed and fresh tears stung her eyes, he sighed sadly as he looked at her. "How did this happen, Sharon?" He asked concerned.

"She said that it was from falling down the stairs when she climbed down from the hideout," Patty said disbelievingly.

Anton nodded. "I see, but you know, medically, I don't think that's possible."

"Why's that honey?" Ruth asked.

"Well, the damage is centered on one side of Sharon's face and even if she had impacted the ground on that side, she would not have an eye swollen shut like this. Young people fall down a lot, probably more so than any of you can imagine, but they do not result in these sorts of injuries."

As if to emphasize his point, he pointed to the spot just over her cheekbone and directly under where her eye was swollen shut. "When someone falls, reflexes indicate that they automatically cover their face to protect their eyes. This is an instinctive reaction that protects them from harm. What I see here indicates that Sharon was struck and she was completely unprepared for it."

He turned and addressed the teenager, his voice gentle, but stern. "If you had fallen like you said, then you would have been injured, yes, but it would not be to this extent and if you had fallen from a high place, then you could have broken a leg or arm and I don't see any injuries on your arms or hands at all."

"H-how would you know this?" Sharon asked weakly.

"Because it's my job to know," he said calmly.

"Patty s-said y-you were a doctor," she whispered.

"That's right, and now I think you need to tell us what really happened after I left the hideout earlier," Anton said.

Sharon shook her head, the words somehow stuck in her throat.

Seconds passed as silence encompassed them. Patty, Anton, and Ruth all waited for Sharon to speak, but when she did not, Patty eventually did. "I don't think she has to say a word for us to know what happened, Anton. I already know. My father got angry and took all of it out on my little sister. It doesn't surprise me because he's the sort of person who will always go after those whom he considers to be weaker than him. That's why he always beat me up when I was a kid. It probably infuriated him that he couldn't control me and used his belt to impose his will. Now he's resorting to beating up Sharon because he knows that he can't beat me up anymore."

"Why not?" Sharon asked meekly.

"Because if he so much as tried, I'd fight back and he probably knows it, too," Patty said firmly.

Anton rested his hand on her shoulder, but looked at Sharon. "At least now I understand what you meant about having more to lose than me. Is that what happened; did your father beat you up after you went back inside?"

"H-he didn't mean it," Sharon cried.

"Perhaps, but he still did it," Anton said, his voice direct. "Didn't he?"

Defeated the teenager nodded. "I should never have called you guys. I'm so sorry."

"You have no reason to apologize," Patty said softly. "Sharon, you know as well as I that our father wants to be in control." Her attention shifted and she regarded her husband. "It's pretty much a repeat of what you saw when you came out of the hideout twelve years ago to protect me. Do you remember?"

He nodded and looked at Sharon, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "Your father is a tyrant, Sharon, I saw it during Patty's youth, and am now witness to it here."

The young girl said nothing, but instead Ruth broke her silence. "Anton, Patty, one of you needs to go and get your friends from the hotel. It's almost nine."

"I'll go," Patty said, but looked at Ruth. "Would you both stay here with her?"

Anton nodded as she squeezed her sister's hand and got to her feet. Within seconds, she had left the house.

Once she was gone, he looked at Ruth. "I think we should get Sharon to a doctor."

"Why?" Sharon asked weakly. "I'll be fine."

"You will be, but your father may have cracked your cheekbone when he struck you," he said softly. "I think it would be wise for us to get a second opinion, since I am not licensed to practice medicine here," he said as he looked at Ruth. "Do you have a car?"

"No honey, I'm 'fraid I don't," she said. "Robert does, but he left for Wynne City this mornin'."

Anton nodded as he looked at the teenager. "I brought some ointment with me, perhaps that will have to suffice for now. We can use it until we can get you to another doctor." He stood up and wordlessly left the room.

Once he was gone, Ruth sat down on the sofa next to the girl. "You gonna tell about why your daddy's been usin' you as a punchin' bag, Honey Babe?"

Sharon cast a glance in the direction Anton went. "Ruth, he didn't mean it, he just got angry because I told him that I had met Anton and found out that he was not like the rumors said. I told my daddy that he was wrong and he got mad and beat me up." She took a deep breath. "None of this would have happened if Momma hadn't squealed on me last night." A pause. "I hate it here."

"Well, it sounds like your old prejudices 'bout Anton are all dryin' up," Ruth said simply. "Maybe that's why they's upset. But, somethin' tells me that you didn't just get beat up for speakin' the truth."

"What does it matter?" Sharon whispered. "I should have left last night when I had the chance, then none of this would've happened and I wouldn't have ended up looking like Quasimodo."

As she spoke, Anton returned to the room, his expression laced in concern. Although he had heard what Sharon had said, his thoughts were now on his wife. Patty had no doubt reached her own conclusions about her father during the short period of time when they had been speaking with Sharon.

Shaking his head, he released a pent up breath as he seated himself next to her and opened a small red and orange colored tube. "This should help," he whispered as he squeezed out some of the salve and with two fingers, lightly wiped the substance against Sharon's purple colored cheek.

Regardless of his professional attitude in all this, Anton's concerns were still with Patty. She had seemed very intent on going to pick up their friends and for whatever reason he could not help but wonder if she was heading straight into trouble.


	20. Chapter 20

_I have been very busy in the real world, but I am hoping that I can get this story finished and posted. I have another idea for a story, and I will probably start writing that when I get some of my other stories finished. I really appreciate the patience and supportive reviews that you have been leaving on this story. It means a great deal to me to have some comments as opposed to being listed at 1305 on someone's 'favorite author' list._

_Many thanks.

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**Chapter 20**

As Patty made her way up the street in the direction of the hotel, her expression was grave. She was more angry than afraid and her eyes were laced with absolute hate, an emotion that was simply a stranger to her.

For the first time in her life, she did not just 'not like' her father, now she hated him. It was horrid enough that he had once beat her, but the fact that he had resorted to beating her little sister senseless was far more than she could even begin to imagine.

You have to keep yourself in check, she inwardly scolded herself as she walked. Go to the hotel, get David and Kathy and tell them what happened. Maybe they could help us to figure all of this out in a calm and rational manner. At that moment, calm and rational seemed foreign to the young woman.

Of course it was true that the couple had helped immensely when Patty had been in New York City all by herself. David, and to some extent Kathy, had listened to and helped her to contend with the feelings she harbored for Anton during that turbulent time. Now she figured that they would probably be there to assist her in dealing with this as well. They were good friends, and that was their way.

Reaching the front of the hotel, Patty approached, opened that door, and entered. As soon as she did the person at the desk raised their head, stared for several seconds, and spoke, their snobby voice filling the otherwise empty lobby. "I'd never have believed it was possible."

Patty said nothing, but instead of recognizing the woman by appearance, she recognized the cadence of her speech. It was Edna Louise Jackson. She was dressed in a simple blue cotton dress, her flowing blonde hair falling in waves down over her thin shoulders. Some things will never change, Patty thought as she calmly approached the desk and rested her forearm against it.

"Well hello there Edna Louise," Patty began, her voice somehow emerging an octave above her usual tone and the phony falsetto almost making her laugh. If she was not already in a bad mood, she probably would have.

This, if anything, reminded her of the first time she had spoken to Anton, her voice had sounded exactly the same, like a bad imitation of Joan Crawford. Instead of dwelling on this, she continued speaking, her voice the same cadence and tone. "Could you please call David and Kathy Lowery's room and tell them that I'm here?"

"Of course," she answered stiffly. Picking up the phone, she dialed the number. Seconds later, she spoke into the receiver. "Patricia Bergen is here to see you." Without waiting for an answer, she returned the phone to the receiver and looked up, a smug smile on her face. It was as though she was saying 'I snubbed Patty's friends, nyeh, nyeh, nyeh'.

Patty smirked, but instead of correcting Edna Louise about her name, she simply waited. "So how have you been?" She finally asked, the awkward silence starting to grate on her nerves.

"Great, I'm getting married next month," Edna Louise said matter-of-factly.

"That's nice," Patty said, all the while wondering what man in his right mind would marry such a snobby woman. Instead of saying anything further, she turned to see that David and Kathy were approaching and within seconds had joined them at the desk.

Distracted from the strained conversation between the two women, Kathy came over and swallowed Patty up in her arms.

"Dobrey Ootra," the eldest of the women said with a smirk as she took in Edna Louise's confused gaze. It was clear that from a mile away that Kathy could tell instinctively that there was no love loss between Patty and Edna Louise Jackson. Based on that observation alone, she intended on playing that angle to the hilt.

"Guten Morgen, Kathy," she said, with the same sort of smile on her face.

"I'm surrounded by linguistic intellectuals," David admonished. "I'll stick to the general English and just say: 'Good morning, Patty'."

Kathy giggled but turned to face Edna Louise. "Could we get some clean towels in our room today? Given how warm this weather is here, I may need more than one. Of course, we're willing to pay for the extra launderings."

"Of course," Edna Louise replied stiffly as they moved away from the desk and started to make their way outside.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" David asked his wife once they were out of Edna Louise's earshot.

"Of course, little Miss Tinkerbell in there had it coming," Kathy said smartly. "I hate people who think they are better than everyone else." Without warning, she raised her hand and brushed it against her forehead. "Oh I am so lucky, I'm getting married next month. The groom is probably some Harvard Law Graduate with a six digit salary, right?" She nudged Patty, who started to laugh out loud.

"So does that mean I can tell her that my husband saves lives and is a doctor?" As this question hung in the air, Patty's merriment suddenly melted away and through troubled eyes, she regarded her friends. "Seriously, thanks for distracting me back there, I honestly didn't want to slip up and mention what happened this morning with Edna Louise standing there waiting for something juicy to spread around town."

"Edna Louise?" Kathy asked. "Is that really her name?"

"Believe it or not, it is," Patty said. "I actually went to school with her and back then, she was boy crazy, but also known to be a bit of a gossip. Of course, that's not saying much since gossip is the local pastime around here. Everyone just has to know everyone else's business." Without thinking, she started to lead them in the direction of the train tracks.

Patty knew that along with the fact that as she was growing up she had spent a good deal of time in the area, but this was also one of the very few places in Jenkinsville where she could speak openly without having the eyes and ears of the small town upon her.

Taking a deep breath she looked at the couple, the tears threatening to escape form beneath the lids. "The last thing she really needs to be aware of is the fact that only this morning my father beat the crap out of my little sister."

"He didn't," Kathy whispered horrified.

"He did, I saw her just now at Ruth's place and given what she said, it was probably because Anton and me had the nerve to come back here. I guess he figured that since he can't beat up on me anymore, he'd go for the next best target." She knew her words were coming out in a rush, but she could not help it. The emotions were once more getting the better of her. "I…" she tried to speak again, but David interrupted.

"…Hold on, Patty, just back up a little bit and take a deep breath." Waiting several moments for her to comply, he continued. "Now, what you're saying is that your father hit your sister because you and Anton decided to come back?" When she nodded he continued. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It may not," Kathy began, "but if you ask me, trying to make sense of the senseless is an utter waste of time. Now, try and stay calm and tell us exactly what happened."

Patty nodded as the tears stung her eyes and eventually made a trail down over her cheeks. "M-my sister showed up at Ruth's house this morning. It was just before I came to meet you and s-she looked like something straight out of a horror movie."

David looked at her, his expression the epitome of calmness. "Is she still there?"

"Yes," emerged the soft response with a slight nod. "I left her with Anton and Ruth to come and meet you. I knew that they would look after her. After I left, I started thinking that maybe we should try and get her to a doctor. One of her eyes is swollen shut and…" her voice trailed off as David interrupted.

"…Wait, isn't Anton a doctor?"

"Yes, but he can't practice medicine here," Patty said, all the while trying to keep her voice composed. "He can only do so much for her, but even he has limits." As she spoke, the anger once more started to well up inside of her. "What I do know is if that man's heart doesn't do him in, then I will. I'm going to the store right now to give him a piece of my mind."

"Hold it, Tiger Lady," Kathy said as she rested a calming hand on Patty's shoulder. This caused her to stop moving and turn around. "We know that you care about your sister, but you can't act in haste. You know perfectly well what would happen if you showed up there and started yelling at him. It is as clear as the nose on my face that your father has the people of this town on his side. If any one of us so much as try to put him in his place, then there is no telling what sort of trouble we could find ourselves in."

"But, what about Sharon?" Patty whispered. She knew her friend was right, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not get her sister's bruised face and swollen eye out of her mind. "We have to do something."

"We will do something," David said. "But, Kathy's right. Given that this is a small town with a mentality to match, we have to stay calm and think rationally. Your parents are known here, maybe the thing to do is simply buy our time." He wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a fatherly embrace. "I know you hate to see other people getting hurt by ignorance and stupidity, but for now that is all we can do. We're on their turf, not ours."

Without waiting for her to respond, David smiled reassuringly and continued speaking. "It would be a far cry easier to handle all of this if we were in Germany or New York, but the simple fact of the matter is; we're not. So, let's get over to Ruth's house and see if we can find out if there is anything we can do to help your sister through all this."

Nodding reluctantly, Patty led them back in the direction of Ruth's house. David and Kathy always seemed to be the voice of reason, and this was case in point to that summation.

As they walked, Patty tried to calculate in her mind what she was going to say or do once they got to the house. As they reached a road, they made their way along the side. Seconds later, a truck pulled up along the edge and the driver honked.

"Hey Patty, is that you?" A masculine sounding voice called out and she raised her head, turned around, and gasped.

"Freddy?" She breathed as she regarded the burley man in the cab of a large truck. His hair was slicked back and a baseball cap covered his head. He was regarding them through friendly, but amused eyes.

"Yeah it's me," he smiled. "Wow, you sure look different, Patty."

"So do you," she said. He was definitely different than the scrawny kid she knew back when. Instead of giving her a chance to elaborate that point, Freddy's next words emerged.

"I heard you was back in town, but didn't know I'd see you since I ain't here very much anymore," he said. "You need a lift?"

"That's not really necessary, we're just heading to Ruth's house," she said. "It's only three or four streets down."

"Well, hop in, and I'll give you curb service," he offered smiling as he leaned across the seat and opened the door. He motioned towards David and Kathy. "You folks friends with Patty here?"

"Yes," David said. "My name's David Lowery and this is my wife, Kathy."

"Frederick Dowd, at your service," emerged the formal introduction and Patty looked at Freddy with a small trace of surprise.

"Your first name is Frederick?" She managed to speak. She had never once contemplated or pondered the idea that 'Freddy' could have been a shortened form of some given name. To her, he would always be Freddy, a kid her father disapproved of, but the one who gave her a half melted mass of chocolate back when they had been kids.

This newfound knowledge somehow made her smile contrary to the fact that so many unhappy thoughts had been filtering about in her mind. The thought that her husband and her old school friend shared the same first name was nothing short of astounding.

"Yeah," Freddy said. "It's a trifle too fancy for my tastes, but my grandmother wanted me to have a 'sophisticated name'. Don't help much for what I do, but such as life. You folks can call me Freddy, that's what everyone 'round here does anyway."

The three friends climbed into the cab of the truck and closed the door. "Where'd you get the truck?" Patty asked as she found herself squished between Freddy and David.

"It belongs to the company where I work. My boss loans it to me now and again so I can drive home and see my dad and grandma," he said. "I gotta get it back there tonight 'cause I share it with this other guy who's got kin in Bolton."

"What do you do?" David asked.

"Anything and everything," Freddy said with a smirk. "I work construction in Wynne City. Right now we're putting up a ten-story apartment building."

"Do you like it?" Kathy asked. "The work I mean."

"Sure, it's a lot better than sitting around here listening to the local gossip," he said. "Just ask Patty here, she'll tell you that you can't sneeze here without ten or so of the locals trying to wipe your nose for you."

"Small towns are that way," David mused.

"How would you know?" Kathy teased. "You grew up in Chicago."

"I know, but there have been people I encountered who came from small towns and they confirmed tenfold what Freddy just said," David said with a smirk. "Aside from that, the actor who played 'Anton' in my play grew up in Davis City, Iowa of all places and he said the population there was 799 and everyone there knew everyone else."

"That's about the same as Jenkinsville about ten years ago when Patty and me were living there," Freddy said as he pulled up to Ruth's house. "Here you go, just like I promised, curb service."

The three of them started to get out but Patty stopped and looked at Freddy. "Could you maybe stick around for a few minutes? Something tells me that we may need your help if you got nothing pressing to do."

"Sure," Freddy said as she got out. "You think Ruth would mind me coming in for a few minutes? It's pretty hot out here." As if to stress his point, he removed the hat he wore, ran his hand through his crop of sandy blond hair, and then replaced the cap.

"I don't think she'll mind," Patty said as she watched Freddy got out of the truck and followed them to the front door.

For their part, David and Kathy went over and knocked as Patty and Freddy approached. As soon as Ruth opened it, they hurried inside the small house.

The minute they entered, Patty immediately noticed that Sharon was still sitting on the sofa and Anton was seated right next to her. "We're back," she said as her sister raised her head.

"You didn't go into town and start makin' trouble, did you Patty Babe?" Ruth asked in response to her words. There were lines along the older woman's brow with marked her concern.

"No Ruth, David and Kathy stopped me," she said. Instead of speaking further, she went over and wrapped a protective arm around her sister as Freddy looked at the group assembled.

After several moments of unintentionally staring at Sharon, the construction worker spoke. "You may think it's none of my business, but I think we need to get Sharon to a doctor." His blunt words filled the room, as he walked over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You don't look like you feel so good."

Patty smiled. Leave it to kind-hearted Freddy to lighten the burden on her sister's shoulders. Most guys would have said that that her little sister looked terrible, but not Freddy; instead he was able to show concern by saying what he construed as being right and honest.

"I don't," the teenager whispered as shame crept up her cheeks and she lowered her head. Without missing a beat, Freddy reached over and lightly raised her chin with the tip of his fingers.

"You got no reason to feel shame," he said, his words simple.

Patty nodded as Anton looked at Freddy. "We've been trying to figure out who has a car and can get her to a doctor. Would you know of someone who could help us out?"

Freddy looked at Anton, his expression shifting somewhat, but he nodded. "I can," he said, the words that emerged were simple, albeit stilted. Shifting his focus, he returned his attention to Sharon. "I know of a really good doctor in Wynne City and if you want, I can take you to see him."

"Oh Freddy, that would be wonderful," Ruth said before anyone could respond. "You's a good boy, I always knew that."

Freddy shrugged his shoulders and offered a slight smile. "I have room for three people in the cab of the truck, but if we're gonna go, we'd best be going."

Anton looked at Patty, "Maybe you should go with her, Schatz. I don't think Sharon wants to go alone."

Patty nodded as she looked at her sister's intimidated face and saw her shaking her head. "I intend to."

"I think Anton should go too," Ruth supplied. "I's gotta wait here for Robert to get back, but maybe I can show Kathy and David around town while you're away."

Anton nodded. "That is perhaps not a bad idea." He picked up the tube of cream that was still on the coffee table and stuck it in the pocket of his shirt. He then assisted Freddy in helping the teenager to her feet.

Once they had helped her outside and to the truck, Patty looked at David and Kathy. "Will you both be okay?"

"We'll be fine," David said. "Go and look after your sister."

Patty nodded and headed back outside, thus leaving them alone with Ruth.

Seconds later, and from inside, they could hear the truck's motor roaring to life. As it did, Ruth looked at David and Kathy. "That done worked out better than I thought," she said with relief shadowing her features.

"How so?" Kathy asked.

"Well, Patty can't very well go to the Bergen's store and stir up trouble while she's in that truck on her way to Wynne City," Ruth said smiling.

"True, but she will eventually have to face her parents," David interjected. "If she doesn't, then her and Anton coming here would have been a waste of time and money."

Ruth nodded, but somewhere deep inside, she knew that the chances would be more in Patty and Anton's favor when the young woman was not upset when that happened. At least, that way, she would be thinking with her logic and not her emotions.


	21. Chapter 21

_Before I give you this chapter, there are a few things I need to say. First, I am really sorry that my updates have been few and far between. I share a computer with my husband who is looking for a new job. Keep your fingers crossed that he finds one._

_Second, I am not a doctor, and so I am doing my best with my experiences at the doctor offices in the US. Even then, I do not have much to base anything on, because I was born in 1970, not 1956 (when this story is set) and I have no earthly idea as to how things were back then. So, please bear with me._

_Finally, reviews do help with me getting off my duff and posting installments, so if you would, please review. This story still has a few chapters to go, but there will be more stories, as long as I know people are interested in what I present here.

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**Chapter 21**

'Wynne City 15 miles', the marker read.

Up to that moment the trip had passed in silence. Freddy kept his eyes on the road, Sharon was sitting between him and Anton, her head resting against her brother-in-law's shoulder, and Patty stared outside practically willing the truck to sprout wings.

She knew that Sharon would not feel better until they found out exactly the damage Harry Bergen had done to her. She glanced over at her husband and felt his hand reaching for hers. Surrendering it, she looked into his eyes and noticed that they carried same look as she remembered that day oh so long ago. The crease of concern that stretched between his eyebrows were all the indication she needed as to what was on his mind. Anton Reiker was not only concerned for Sharon's welfare, Patty concluded, but also for mine.

His hold on her hand was case in point to that summation as Patty felt an unshakable love fill her heart as she looked over at him. Seconds later, he began to shift around so that Sharon's head would rest more comfortably against his shoulder.

It was at that precise moment when Patty remembered what Ruth had always said about counting one's blessings. She had him, and that was the greatest blessing of them all.

After several more moments had passed, Anton finally spoke, his words addressing the man at the wheel. "We really appreciate you helping us," he began.

"Let's make one thing clear, I ain't helping you, I'm helping Sharon," Freddy said and it was evident that his voice was anything but cordial.

"We know that Freddy," Patty said softly. "You've always been a really good friend."

In response to these words, the man at the wheel shrugged his shoulders but no response emerged. Instead, his lips formed into a thin line. "We're almost there," he mumbled as he pulled off the main road and drove in the direction of the downtown sector of the town.

The first thing Anton noticed upon their arrival was how this town appeared to be much bigger than Jenkinsville. The buildings carried a more modern looking façade and the size was somehow paralleled to the number of cars that were on the roads.

Within minutes they had reached a small five story building and Freddy pulled the truck to the side of the road and shut off the motor. "Doctor Reynolds is on the fourth floor, and the good thing is he takes 'walk-ins'."

Opening the door he started to climb out, but after a few seconds, he reached for Sharon's hand and started to help her get out on the driver's side. This left Anton and Patty to disembark from the passenger side.

Once they had all gotten out and were standing on the edge of the curb, Freddy put a sturdy arm around Sharon's shoulder and picking her up off the ground, he wordlessly carried her towards the building. Without thinking of what she was doing, Sharon allowed her head to casually rest against his shoulder.

Anton started to approach, but a glare from the other man stopped him dead in his tracks. It seemed clear as glass that Freddy intended on being Sharon's hero and that meant not allowing anyone else to come near her.

Instead of arguing, he hung back for several moments and spoke in hushed tones to his wife. "I do believe that Freddy still likes you, Schatz. Perhaps he is offended and angry about the fact that we ended up marrying and he was not granted an opportunity to properly court you."

She shrugged her shoulders. "That may be, but you know I was never allowed to be friends with Freddy growing up," she whispered back to him. "My father pretty much dictated everything. You do know that I never felt for him what I feel for you. He and I were just friends."

"I think you meant much more to him than that," Anton said as they started to follow Freddy and Sharon into the building. "Perhaps we ought to be kind to him, even if he dislikes me."

Patty nodded as they came inside, and followed a long hallway, which led them to a flight of stairs. Reaching it, they began to climb and when they finally reached the landing to the fourth floor, they stepped out into another hallway. It was there where they spotted Sharon and Freddy at the end of the long corridor. Standing at a doorway, Freddy put Sharon back on her feet as Patty and Anton came down the hall.

Seconds later, they all found themselves in a small, but orderly, waiting room. Freddy approached the glass window, tapped lightly on it, and waited for it to be slid to one side.

Once the woman at the desk had raised her head, she moved the glass panel to one side and Freddy spoke. "Hi Margaret."

"Well, hello there Freddy," she said with a warm smile. "What can I do you for today?"

"Not me this time," Freddy said. "Do you think Doctor Reynolds has time to take a look at my friend?"

The receptionist cocked her head to one side so that she could take in Sharon's unkempt appearance. Upon seeing the disheveled state of the young girl, she spoke, her voice laced with motherly concern. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Sharon Marie Bergen, ma'am," the teenager whispered.

"And where are your parents, honey?" She asked.

"They're not here," Patty said, breaking her silence.

"Why is that?"

"Because they're the ones responsible for what has happened to her," Patty said.

"I see," the woman said, this time addressing Patty. "How old is she?"

"Eighteen," Patty said. "She just looks younger."

"That'll be a blessing when you get to be my age," Margaret said, this time looking at Sharon. After several moments, she turned and looked at Patty. "May I ask who you are?" Her voice emerged neither rude nor intrusive, but rather laced in unhidden curiosity.

"I'm Sharon's sister, Patricia Ann Reiker," Patty said. "And I can attest to the fact that our father has an explosive temper, because he beat me up when I was a child, too."

"I too have seen it," Anton said with a slight nod.

Freddy turned and regarded Patty's husband for the first time with what could only be described as blatant curiosity. "You saw Mr. Bergen hit her?" He asked motioning towards Sharon. His hostility seemed to have melted away once Anton had spoken.

"No, I didn't see him beat Sharon," Anton responded with a shake of his head. "What I did see, happened twelve years ago when Patty was just a twelve-year-old girl." He paused as he regarded the receptionist through steady eyes. "Perhaps this is irrelevant, but abuse is abuse, and there is nothing more cowardly and inhumane than for a man to beat up his own daughter."

Patty's face flushed, but without thinking, she lowered her gaze as shame washed over her. It was clear from the look on her face that she would never forget that day when Anton had come out of the safety of his hiding place to protect her. Yet she could not help but ponder if he had been thinking the very same thing she was. Was he now trying to protect Sharon in the same manner as he had attempted with her all those years ago?

The questions continued to ravage her mind, but instead of speaking of how history had a strange way of repeating itself, she exhaled slowly when she felt the simple contact of her husband's hand against hers.

"Go ahead and sit down and I'll let Doctor Reynolds know that you're here," Margaret said and within seconds she had closed the window.

Wordlessly, the four of them went and sat down.

As Patty, Anton, and Sharon seated themselves in order to wait, Patty noticed that Freddy was pacing the floor like an expectant father waiting for the birth of his first child. She could not fathom what was going through his mind, but given what Anton had said earlier, she could only guess what was wrecking havoc on Freddy's mind.

After several moments, she stood up and went over to where he was pacing. "Are you alright?" She asked after taking a deep breath.

Freddy did not immediately answer, instead, he cast a glance over towards where Anton and Sharon were seated. Inhaling slowly, he eventually spoke. "He really saw your daddy beat you, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," she said softly.

"It was because of me," he said, his voice matter-of-fact.

"No, it wasn't you. It was something like prejudice and hatred that made him beat me up," she said softly. "Don't ever believe that it was you, okay?"

"It _was_ me, Patty," he said softly. "I've always known it, but you was my only friend back then. You hung out with me even though your father didn't like me. Did you ever ask him why?"

"Tons of times," Patty said nodding. "I told him that you were a good friend and that I couldn't understand why he didn't like you. Then he would raise his fist as though he intended to strike me and said that I shouldn't contradict him." She cast a wary glance towards her sister. "I guess some things will never change."

"Do you know that your daddy's sick?" Freddy mused.

"Sharon told me about a month ago. That's why we came back," she said.

"You came back to help him?"

"No," she began. "At first I thought it was to rectify something with him, but I don't think there's a chance of that ever happening. I guess when I saw Sharon this morning, I had no choice to accept the inevitable. I guess the truth is, I came back because my sister asked me to." A pause. "Sharon and I may not have always understood each other growing up, but I do love her…she's my sister and…"

"…It tears you to pieces to see her in this state, don't it?" Freddy interrupted, his question sincere.

Patty nodded. "Yes it does."

He reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. "When I saw her back at Ruth's house, I thought of all those times you had been hit and how I couldn't do nothing because I was just a kid. Later, I would see you in town with bruises on your arms, and I knew the cause. I wasn't as stupid as they all thought."

"You knew?" She asked weakly. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"The same reason I didn't tell Sharon that she looked awful," he said. "It'd have been too embarrassin'." Taking a deep breath, he looked at her, his voice lowered. "On that one day when your father beat you senseless, I'd seen it happen. Sure, I had heard the talking around town, but I didn't want to believe it. Then I saw him hit you and it confirmed all the rumors. After that, I stayed away so you wouldn't get hurt anymore."

Patty looked at him, but after several seconds of silence, shame crept into her face, and she lowered her head. "I never knew, Freddy."

Instead of speaking, he glanced over towards where Anton was seated. He was flipping idly through an old issue of the _Reader's Digest _his attention centered on the periodical instead of on them. "He don't hurt you, does he?"

"No," she shook her head. "He's very good to me, because he loves me, Freddy."

"He wasn't the only one, you know," Freddy confessed.

She reached over and rested her hand on his shoulder. "I know."

As this simple affirmation hung in the air, the door to the waiting room opened and a gray headed man in a white lab coat appeared in the entryway. "Miss Sharon Bergen," he spoke her sister's name and Patty turned around.

Sharon stood up and started to walk over towards the doctor. "Can my sister come with me?" She asked in a small voice.

"Of course," the doctor responded as he waved his hand as though beckoning them through the doorway.

Patty offered Freddy yet another grateful smile before turning and following her sister and the doctor down a small hallway and into the confines of a treatment room.

* * *

The first thing Patty noticed as they made their way down the narrow hallway was the fact that there seemed to be countless shades of white that extended along the walls. She took a deep breath, her thoughts drifting back to the short conversation that she had had with Freddy just before the doctor had come out and called her sister's name.

For her part, Sharon reached for Patty's hand and once the elder of the two had surrendered it, the grip gave away the fact that the teenager was terrified.

Moments later, they reached a second door and the doctor opened it before ushering the two of them into an examination room.

Once inside, Patty found a chair in the corner and sat down at the same instant the doctor had motioned with his hand for Sharon to get up on the examination table.

Obediently, the teenager hopped up onto the long table and waited for the doctor to go over to the sink and wash his hands. Finishing, he wiped them dry and approached where Sharon was seated. "Now then," he began. "Let's see what there is to see."

Patty watched as he lightly touched Sharon's cheek in the same manner Anton had done back at Ruth's house. When the teenager cringed and tears sprang into her eyes, his eyebrows arched slightly. "Dr. Reynolds, my husband said that our father might have cracked Sharon's cheekbone."

"Your husband sounds like he knows what he's talking about," the doctor said as he continued to lightly run his hand along the teenager's injured face.

"He has a practice back home," she offered freely. "He's a doctor."

"That explains plenty as he was smart about getting your sister here," he said as he looked at Sharon's swollen eye. "The good news is, it appears as though your eye was not damaged in the confrontation. That means your vision should be fine. Of course, this incident should be noted in your file when you go and see your eye doctor."

Sharon nodded but backed away from his gentle administrations. "It hurts."

"I know, sweetheart, a shiner usually does," he said sympathetically. "You look like a prize fighter who lost, but fear not, in time, it will heal, and you will be just as pretty as you were before this happened."

"You see?" Patty said encouragingly. "You're going to be fine, Sharon." She turned and looked a the doctor. "Is there anything else that we need to do? Perhaps something that will take the swelling down."

Dr. Reynolds took a deep breath. "What you need to do is use some special salve for the swelling, but make sure that it doesn't get into her eyes. I can write a prescription for that, but the other thing you need to do is get some large pads and gauze to cover the eye. This is to keep the dirt out of the eye so that it will heal properly." He turned and addressed the teenager. "Do you feel any dizziness at all?"

"Only a little right after it happened, but now I'm okay," she whispered.

"That's good," he said gently as he fished a business card from his pocket and handed it to Sharon. "This is my number. If you start to experience anything like nausea or dizzy spells, then you contact me at once. I can't do much for your cheek bone, as that will have to heal on its own, but I can wrap some gauze around your face so that you won't get an infection."

He then went over to a drawer and opened it. Patty and Sharon watched as he extracted several large white pieces of gauze and came over to where the teenager was seated. First he smeared some of the salve across her injured cheek, and then began to wind the gauze around her head.

Within seconds, he had finished and affixed the bandages with medical tape. "I wish you a speedy recovery, Sharon," he said.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He turned and looked at Patty. "You need to keep her away from whoever did this. My receptionist informed me that it was your father, but I think now that you are here, you and your husband can keep her safe. I see far too many abuse victims in here than I should."

"I will definitely do my best, Dr. Reynolds," she promised.

He nodded and led them from the room.


	22. Chapter 22

_Here's the latest installment. I started a new story today, so all that is left to do is to finish posting these chapters. Please leave a review, it motivates me to continue posting. Listing as 'favorite story' or 'favorite author' is not all that encouraging to many writers (myself included) because a lot of people have a gazillion authors / stories as favorites. A few words or comments is much better.

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**Chapter 22**

Outside in the waiting room, Anton was seated and waiting for them to emerge from the recesses of the doctor's office. As he shifted his weight around and tried to make himself comfortable on the plastic seat, his thoughts were racing about a mile a minute.

What seemed to made the situation even more awkward was the fact that he was waiting in a room with someone who clearly desired nothing more than to have him stand before a firing squad. The curt answers that had emerged from Freddy earlier were case in point to that particular summation.

Instead of trying to initiate a conversation with the younger man, Anton opted for silence, which seemed to now consume both of them.

After several minutes of staring at the walls, Anton concluded that the only option he had was to focus his attention on a five month old copy of the_ Reader's Digest_. Opening the wrinkled periodical, he tried without much success at busying himself with it.

Turning several of the pages, he started to watch out of the corner of his eye as Freddy started hopping about from one foot to the other as though a runner about to start in a big race. Contrary to the younger man's affirming the doctor as being a good and capable caregiver, it was clear that he was still nervous.

For about five minutes, it was like this. Freddy would either hop about his weight on one foot then the other, or walk the length of the room. As he did, the toes of his working boots would scrape against the floor.

Finally, after several minutes had passed, Freddy stopped pacing, walked over, and seated himself on one of the chairs opposite of where Anton was.

It was then when he finally spoke, his voice somewhat hesitant. "Sorry about how I acted earlier," he began, his voice now breaking the uncomfortable silence.

In response to this, Anton closed the magazine and cast it aside as Freddy continued. "I guess it wasn't very nice of me."

"All is forgiven," Anton said simply, his voice neither tense nor agitated. There was a strange, almost accepting resonance to it. "The fact that you drove us all here demonstrates that you really do care for both Patty and Sharon."

Freddy nodded as he looked down at his hands. "I do."

"It shows," Anton said calmly. "It's in your eyes and your manner."

"What do you mean?" Freddy could not help but ask.

"I saw how you looked at Sharon when you came into Ruth's house earlier," Anton said. "Your eyes somehow told a story that transcended anything that any one of us could have said. When you asked Sharon how she was, I was touched by how caring you sounded. You probably knew beyond any doubt about how conscientious she is about her looks."

"I just told her that she didn't look like she felt very good," Freddy said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I mean; she didn't and I think that when we get back into town, people there will talk. That's not gonna make it easier for her, in fact, it'll make it even harder." He paused, but looked at Anton as his next question emerged. "I don't get how you could say that I am caring or conscientious, I was just tellin' the truth."

"You could have said, 'Sharon, you look awful', but you didn't," Anton said. "Just before you had arrived at Ruth's house with Patty, David, and Kathy, Sharon had made some remark about how she felt like 'Quasimodo'. It was sensitive and kind of you to phrase it in the way you did."

"The way you're talking, I guess you sort of care about what happens to her, too," Freddy said.

"Yes, I do," Anton said with a casual nod, his response laced in simplicity.

Freddy took a deep breath. "Maybe I shouldn't admit this to you, but you know, I have always loved Patty. She was so nice when we were kids and everyone else treated me like I was stupid and worthless. Somehow she knew that I wasn't, even though hanging out with me was sort of dangerous for her."

Anton smiled ironically at Freddy's word choice. "Yes, she seems to attract those dangerous sorts of associations, does she not?" He asked with a slight chuckle.

Freddy nodded as he leaned over and lightly nudged Anton's arm. "I'm preachin' to the choir, huh?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It just means I said somethin' that was pretty obvious," Freddy said and after a momentary pause, he continued speaking. "Did she ever tell you about me?"

"Yes," Anton said with a nod of his head. "She told me about you when she was a child. She mentioned that you were generous and kind, and how you would share your candy with her when it was apparent that you didn't have very much for yourself. She told me about how you would mow grass for people so you could sleep through the Saturday matinee."

"I did a lot of silly things back then," Freddy said somewhat embarrassed.

"You were a child," Anton said. "You didn't understand things like hate or prejudice. All of those things were taught to you by people like Patty's father."

"He didn't teach me nothing," Freddy replied stubbornly. "I ain't like him."

"No, you're not, but he did teach you."

"What did he teach me?" Freddy asked in the same defensive manner as one might say: 'Okay if you're so smart then you tell me'.

"Well, specifically, he taught you about what sort of actions you would never consider taking or what sort of person you do not wish to be," Anton said. "Keep in mind that some of the teachers I had during my youth were ten times worse than Mr. Bergen could ever think of being. Of course, I chose to ignore their words of hate and bitterness, and instead listened to the loving example set forth by my parents."

"They're good?" Freddy asked.

"Yes, very good. My mother came from England, and my father is German. Before he retired, he was the head of the History Department at the University of Göttingen. During his tenure, the war happened, but he chose not to get involved with the politics of hate that had permeated the entire country. My sister and I grew up somewhat protected from it until I was forced to go into the army when I turned eighteen," he said.

"You was forced?" Freddy asked.

"Yes," Anton said with a nod of his head. "It was a very difficult time to grow up in, but it was even worse knowing that one would have to fight for something that one clearly did not believe in."

"You didn't?" Freddy asked.

"No," Anton shook his head. "What do things like hate really bring to a country, or to a people? They glorify the destruction of a race, or a demonstration of power that one person exerts over another." He pointed towards the door that Patty and Sharon had disappeared through. "Sharon's situation is case in point to that. It is perhaps shown on a smaller scale, but it does have its parallels to the real world."

"Maybe," Freddy took a deep breath as he glanced towards the door where Patty and Sharon had disappeared through moments before. "I'd rather talk about something else; though. This stuff is making my brain hurt."

"Of course," Anton said smiling. "At least now you know that I am no longer your enemy or a threat to anyone."

The young man raised his head and looked briefly at Anton. Inhaling slowly, he tried to find the words he wanted to say. Eventually, he did. "I already knew that. I was just mad at you 'cause you took Patty away from me. Admitting that you mean her well is kinda hard for me."

"I know," Anton said nodding. "And since you're being so honest, I have to say in my defense that I truly had no idea that she meant so much to you."

"You didn't?" Freddy asked.

"No, and I am sorry that our actions hurt you, Freddy."

Instead of immediately responding, he shrugged his shoulders yet again. After several moments had ticked by, he spoke. "You didn't know."

Anton sighed sadly when he heard the uncharacteristic defeat in those words. At the same instance, he could sense that the younger man did not seem to trust him. This was confirmed when Freddy continued to look around the room instead of making direct eye contact.

After several moments, he turned back around, his eyes darting from the magazines on the table to the wall. Eventually, he spoke, his question indicative that he preferred any sort of dialogue to the awkward silence that had previously consumed them. "What was it like when you were a kid?"

Anton smiled, but instead of going into the negative aspects of his childhood, he decided to focus on something more positive. "Well, I suppose it was similar to how things were when you were growing up. I must confess that I did more than my fair share of trouble making when I was young."

"Yeah, like what?" Freddy asked. "Tell me something you did when you was little that you might think is silly today."

"Well," Anton thought for a moment and then he smiled as he recalled the very event he wanted to share. "I once planted a cupcake that my mother had baked in the garden right outside my family's home."

"Why?" Freddy asked.

"I wanted to see if it would grow into a tree that would sprout even more cupcakes. This was several years before I learned that scientifically cupcakes could not grow into trees. I was around seven at the time though. When my father discovered what I had done, he was quite amused, but eventually sat down with me and said: 'Frederick, I know that you love your mother's homemade pastries, but planting them in the ground does not necessarily mean that they will grow'."

"Frederick?" Freddy spoke. "Is your first name really Frederick?"

"Yes, my parents called me that until I got older and then I started going by my middle name. Today, most people call me 'Anton'," he began. "Why do you ask?"

"My given name is also Frederick, but I used to only hear it when my dad or grandmother were angry with me," Freddy said smiling sheepishly. "That happened at least once a day back them. Maybe, that explains why Patty was surprised when I told her that earlier."

Anton nodded but not before casting a casual glance down at his watch before looking back over at the doorway that led into the recesses of the doctor's office.

"You're really worried, aren't ya?" Freddy eventually asked.

"It is rather apparent, is it not?" Anton asked.

"Yeah, but I'm worried too," Freddy admitted. "But, I think they'll be okay. Dr. Reynolds is really a good doctor." He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and along the shoulder was a straight scar that extended from the upper arm to the shoulder blade. "He stitched me up last summer when I had an accident at work, and it's as good as new." He paused. "Well, almost, but he said the scar would go eventually go away."

Anton smiled and nodded, before settling in to wait.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the door to the back of the office opened and Sharon and Patty emerged. As they did, the two men stood up.

"How'd it go?" Freddy asked. "What'd he say?"

Sharon offered a slight shrug and started to walk slowly towards the exit. Without another word, Freddy followed her out and Patty walked over to her husband.

"We have to keep her away from my father," she whispered to him as they stepped out into the hallway and allowed the door to close behind them. Alone in the corridor, she continued speaking. "Oh Anton, I don't know how that's even going to be possible in a small town like Jenkinsville."

Anton wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder and led her back down the corridor towards the stairwell. "We'll find a way," he said gently. "Remember, we aren't in this alone, we have Ruth, Freddy, Kathy, and David helping us. Between the six of us, we should manage just fine."

Patty nodded, but raised her head and looked at her husband. "Do you know what is so ironic, Anton?"

"What's that, Liebling?" He asked.

"All this time, Sharon was completely consumed with worries about our father. Everything she said and did was about trying to protect him as well as her fears that he would die. Even after all that, he went and beat the tar out of her because our mother's a blabber mouth. I mean, he hit her, and somewhere deep down inside of her is still insisting on trying to protect him. How can she do that?" Patty asked.

"Well, if I recall correctly, you pretty much did the very same thing twelve years ago. You do remember how you had said that it was nothing when I inquired after what I had seen him do to you. It seems that you and your sister are very much alike in that regard," he said gently as he reached over and touched one side of her face. "But, that was one of the things that made me love you."

"How could you have loved me, though?" She asked. Before he could respond, she continued. "I mean; I was just some stupid and naïve kid."

"You were brave, and caring," Anton objected as he took her in his arms and smiled down at her. "No matter what happens, you will always be my hero, Patty."

She remained in his hold, but allowed her arms to wind their way around him. Seconds later, she raised her head and looked deeply into his eyes. "Sometimes I forget why you saw me in such a positive way."

"It's not just me, Schatz," he said with a gentle smile. "Now, you are given the opportunity to be a hero to your sister. After all, it is your determination and love that is helping to get her out of a rather bad situation."

"But I couldn't do much without having you and the others to back me up," she said softly. "Speaking of which, I think we should catch up with them. Freddy probably wants to get back to Jenkinsville so he can visit his family."

Anton nodded as they made their way down the stairs and outside. There they joined Freddy and Sharon at the truck. Climbing into the cab, Patty looked at her sister. "I've been thinking," she began as the door was closed and Freddy started the motor.

"What about?" Sharon asked.

"Well, seeing as you are under doctor's orders to not go around our father, we probably should decide where you're going to be staying for the next few days."

"I can't go back home?" She asked weakly.

"I'm afraid that is not possible or advisable," Anton said sadly.

"She could stay at my place," Freddy offered.

"Yeah, and then the gossips in Jenkinsville would have a field day spreading all sorts of rumors about you two," Patty said unable to conceal the cynical tone of her voice.

"She's right, Freddy," Sharon whispered as she rested an affectionate hand on his arm. "But thank you for offering."

Freddy nodded, his attention once more on the highway that stretched out before them.

After several seconds, Anton spoke. "How about Ruth's?"

"She doesn't have a lot of space, and with you both staying there, it could be a pretty tight squeeze," Sharon objected.

"Well then, Patty and I could go and stay at the hotel," Anton said. "I don't think Ruth would be offended, especially given the current circumstances."

"We should ask Ruth first," Sharon said. "Mother always said that that was the proper way of doing things."

Unconsciously, Patty's eyes rolled. "As though she would be the epitome of good manners and knowing what was right and ethical," she muttered under her breath. "I'm sorry, Sharon, but I really don't think Mother is the ideal person to be quoting right now."

Anton rested a gentle hand on Patty's shoulder and she calmed down somewhat. "I think the best course of action is to ask Ruth when we get back to town. She might have some ideas as well."

Patty nodded and it seemed as though the other two were in concurrence with this summation as well. The rest of the trip passed in silence.


	23. Chapter 23

_As I posted in my profile, real life has prevented me from posting the chapters, but I will try and get them up faster. My goal is to get this story finished by December 1. Here's hoping that I can meet that deadline and have all the bits posted. _

_Please let me know what you think, oh and the language is a bit harsher, but it has to be, emotions here are running high, and usually when people are angry, they tend to swear, at least given my experiences.

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**Chapter 23**

At that moment, David and Kathy Lowery were walking along Main Street with Ruth. The heavyset woman was pointing out the local places of interest; the Sav-Mor Market, the Victory Café, the sheriff's office, the bank, and the hotel.

Intentionally, she did not point out the Bergen Department Store thinking that David and Kathy would be concocting some kind of mischief if they were to have gone in there. For whatever reason, Ruth knew that they had not said much since Patty, Anton, and Freddy had left in order to take Sharon to go to Wynne City to see the doctor.

The fact that the couple were Patty and Anton's friends was case in point to her not wanting to take them inside the store. Of course, given the way Kathy was carrying herself, Ruth somehow knew that whatever diversion tactic she had in mind would probably not reap too terribly much anyway.

As the three of them walked up the street, they soon noticed that several men were going into the department store and the door abruptly closed right behind them. "Somethin's happenin," Ruth mused, her voice detectable only to the couple.

"What is it?" David eventually asked once he recognized Jimmy Wells in the middle of the group. "I remember that one guy, the younger looking one. He's the one who confronted us just after we arrived last night."

Ruth nodded solemnly and pointed to each of the remaining three men in turn. "That's Sheriff Cauldwell and the other two are George Henkins, and Quenton Blakey. I can understand the sheriff hangin' 'round here 'cause that's his job and all, but I ain't seen those other two in months. They don't usually show up around here unless something big is happenin'."

"Then let's go see what it is," David said, curiosity getting the better of him.

Ruth took a deep breath. "I don't think we should."

"Maybe," Kathy said. "But, if we don't then whatever we hear later will no doubt stem from the local gossip that we may pick up on anyway."

David nodded in agreement. "She's right, and if we hear it first hand, then there is no way we can be swayed by the rumor mill or hearsay."

Reluctantly, Ruth agreed and started to follow them across the street and over towards the door leading into the Bergen Department Store.

Coming inside the somewhat cramped establishment, Ruth found herself stopping and just to the left of the door, while David and Kathy crossed the room and found themselves at the stationary counter.

All around them were counters that looked like they consisted of glass cases with mahogany colored wood that covered the top of them. At one end, the wooden plank extended to the wall. She could tell that this was how the salespeople were able to wait on customers. Her eyes continued to take in the large showcases, but soon her attention shifted to the group of men assembled in the men's clothing department. It was not hard since their voices filtered throughout the rest of the store.

"I'm telling you boys, that is just what happened," one of the men was saying. The moment his harsh sounding voice filtered through the store, both David and Kathy instinctively knew that the man speaking was Patty's father.

As he was speaking, several of the men rested their weight against the opposite counter and attentively listened. "That Nazi scum went and took my little girl away from me. I just know it. There's probably no telling what he did to her either."

David turned and looked at Kathy, the shock causing his eyes to widen in surprise. "This is so utterly ridiculous," he whispered to her. "From the way he's talking, you'd think it was 1942 all over again. I have never in my life thought it was possible for someone to be this shallow minded and ignorant about anything."

"Not to mention talking about it after having beat his daughter senseless. It's like he is trying to make Anton into some sort of third rate villain," Kathy said as she began to shake her head sadly. "At least now we know why it is the people here are so superficial and treat Patty like she's the bad guy. Her own father seems to be the root of the problem."

"This seems to be precisely where all the local rumors start. So, do you think they even know what the truth is or do they even care?" David asked softly as he turned away from the group. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Before they could leave, Jimmy Wells turned around and spotted them in the corner of the store. "Mr. Bergen, those strangers were with them when they arrived," he called out so loudly that it resonated through the entire store. As if by impulse, several pair of eyes turned on them.

Seeing this, Ruth unconsciously backed her way against the front door of the store and watched as the group of men approached where David and Kathy were standing.

"Oh dear Lord help us," she muttered under her breath as Kathy reached for her husband's arm and waited for the eventual confrontation.

For his part, David positioned himself securely between his wife and the proprietor.

"I don't want no Nazi scum in my store," Harry Bergen snapped as he approached and regarded David and Kathy through a pair of narrowed and spiteful eyes. "Now, there's the door, so you can go out the way you came in."

"Well, we certainly have no intention of making any purchases here," Kathy snapped without missing a beat. "But need I remind you, Sir, that the war ended in 1945 and Nazism with it. Or is this form of slander a way of initiating people who just arrived from out of town?"

"Don't you sass me, young lady," Harry shot back.

"Or what?" She countered with typical New Yorker panache. "You'll beat the shit out of me, just like you did with your eighteen-year-old daughter?"

"What do you know about my daughter?" Harry's face went a shade redder.

Before she could respond, the sheriff intervened. "What do you mean by making these blatant accusations?" He asked deciding at that moment to get directly involved.

"He wants to know where his daughter is and instead of showing parental concern, he'd rather use her unfortunate situation as a means to smear his son-in-law's name through the muck. Is that how it is, sir?"

Harry Bergan's face went another shade redder, the rage literally making him look like a pressure cooker that was on the verge of exploding. He started to come towards Kathy, his fists clenched and his teeth practically grinding together. "Where is my daughter, you smart-mouthed wench?"

Kathy took a deep breath as she shook her head sadly. "Why should I tell you anything when you take such a threatening tone with me? Who's to say you won't react the very same way with your daughter when or if you find her?"

The sheriff looked at David. "I would strongly suggest that you tell us if you know where Sharon is."

David nodded, but with a calming hand still on his wife's shoulder, he spoke. "Alright, from what we were able to piece together, Sharon showed up at our friend's house early this morning looking like she had had the stuffing beaten out of her."

"It was that Nazi who did it," Harry said to the other men, but instead of getting any sort of support, all he got was a rebuttal from Kathy.

"No Sir, it was not," she snapped. "I can only affirm to you as well as anyone else who is here that it was not Anton who beat Sharon up; it was her father. Probably as a way to make trouble for his eldest daughter and her husband."

"How dare you!" Harry shouted, his hand coming to rest against his chest. He started to lunge towards Kathy, but the sheriff's hand kept him at a safe distance. Realizing that Sheriff Cauldwell was not going to budge, he took several deep breaths before speaking. "Who are you fellas gonna believe? Someone you've known since you were kids, or this drifter who parades about town with disrespectful words and false accusations."

Before anyone could respond, Kathy turned and faced the lawman. "I find it to be truly ironic that you, being the law around here, would demand answers from us, all the while standing idly by and allowing this man to call us 'Nazi scum', which, if memory serves, is a form of slander. Yet, when we tell the truth about his abusing his children, we are the ones who have to explain ourselves for making blatant 'accusations'."

"It's the small town mentality, honey," David said. "They are always going to believe their own over anyone else."

"Well, I think it's awful," Kathy said openly. "Considering the fact that we are both Jewish should show that the ultimate insult for any Jew is to be called a nazi," Kathy said as she looked at David. "Please, honey, I think I need a breath of fresh air."

David nodded and started to lead his wife out the door. As they passed, Sheriff Cauldwell reached out and touched his shoulder. It seemed rather clear that the lawman had decided, rather wisely, not to say anything else to Kathy.

"Please tell us where Sharon Bergen is," he spoke in hushed tones to David. "I think you know and if you don't tell us, then I could have you up on charges."

"Why would you?" David asked pointedly. "Sharon is eighteen-years-old, and as an adult, she is legally entitled to do whatever she likes." Without any warning, he turned back around and looked directly at Harry Bergen. "That includes leaving."

Without so much as another word, he and Kathy calmly left the store as Harry spoke to the sheriff.

"You have to arrest them, Sheriff," he said hotly.

"Sorry Harry, but I can't," came the simple response.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because they didn't break any laws," Sheriff Cauldwell said. "That young fellow was right, if Sharon is eighteen-years-old, then she is an adult and can do as she pleases."

Instead of waiting for Harry Bergen to respond, he followed the couple outside and watched as they calmly crossed the street and started to make their way back in the direction of the hotel.

As all of this was happening, Ruth had also stepped outside and was now standing at the edge of the road. Instead of following them, she merely observed the sheriff walking the length of the road before approaching the couple.

"Excuse me, folks," he called out, one of his arms waving in their direction.

David stopped walking and with his arm still around his wife's waist, they both managed to turn around. "Yes?" He spoke. Kathy remained silent.

"I just wanted to apologize to you for all that, but you gotta understand that the Bergen family has been through hell and back during the past few years and they really don't need an issue of a missing child to contend with," the man offered.

"Perhaps not," David said dryly, his words depicting that he was not about to buy that particular brand of argumentation.

"You don't believe that they are contending with something rather traumatic?" the sheriff asked, his voice laced in skepticism.

"If you want to know the truth, I would say that they are even for all the pain they put both of their children through," Kathy said bluntly. As she spoke, she could see that a familiar truck had pulled up to the curb some twenty meters away and the passengers had disembarked.

As they were coming towards the sheriff's unsuspecting back, she pointed. "You want to know where Sharon Bergen is, Sheriff? Well look no further. It would seem that she is in much safer company of her sister and brother-in-law than she would ever be with her parents."

The sheriff turned around to see that Sharon was walking slowly towards them, Anton and Patty on either side of her and Freddy some steps behind them. As they reached where David, Kathy and the sheriff were standing, the lawman spoke.

"Sharon, what on earth happened to you?" He asked.

"Ask my father," the teenager said softly as she lowered her head. "He's the one who uglified me."

Patty nodded as she regarded the concern that shadowed Sheriff Cauldwell's eyes. "This morning, while Anton and I were having breakfast, Sharon showed up at Ruth's house and with Freddy's help, we were able to get her to a doctor in Wynne City."

The sheriff looked at Anton. "Mr. Bergen had insisted that you had done this."

"It seems a logical excuse for him to use," Anton said firmly, his blue eyes now level with that of the sheriff. "However, I have absolutely no reason to beat up this young lady, she is my sister-in-law and my wife loves her sister. She loves her so much that she was willing to do whatever she could to protect her."

Patty nodded. "Sheriff Cauldwell, I know for a fact that Anton would never hurt Sharon, and he has never once raised a fist against me. Aside from that, you got the words straight from Sharon that it was our father who did this. With that in mind, the doctor we spoke to said that under no uncertain terms should we send Sharon back home."

"You can call him, Sheriff," Freddy offered. "I can give you his number and you can find out for yourself."

Patty nodded, but without commenting further, she pulled up the hem of her blouse so as to expose her lower back. Across it the scars from several beatings were still visible. Taking a deep breath, she began to speak. "This may not mean much to you, but our father did this when I was twelve-years-old. This was not simply done as a way to push some twisted form of discipline, it was done because he's a tyrant who wanted nothing more than to control me. Now that he cannot do so, he has opted to exercising this form of power over my younger sister."

"Those are some pretty heavy accusations," the sheriff said.

"Actions speak louder than words," Patty said firmly. As she spoke, she reached for Anton's hand and held it in hers as the older man processed what she had said.

Seconds later, Harry came outside and when he spotted them, he started to walk towards them, his eyes narrowing to two small slits and his hands clenching into two overt fists.

"I see you found her," he said, a thin line stretching its way across his face.

"Yes, and it would seem that both your daughters have told me some very interesting information, Harry," Sheriff Cauldwell said.

"Well Sheriff, it's very clear to me what has happened here," Harry began, "they were brainwashed by the enemy. He was the one who hurt my daughter, but probably used some form of coercion to make her believe that it was me."

"It was not, those are lies, and you know it!" Freddy shouted above the group before any of them could so much as offer a response to these accusations. "It was you all along, I know it was. I saw it with my own two eyes how you beat the stuffing out of Patty because she was talking to me. You're just looking for someone else to blame because you're a bully!"

By this time, Ruth approached where the group had assembled and she rested her hand on Freddy's shoulder. Upon making contact with him, she could feel that they were trembling and the younger man was trying with all his might to stay calm. "Shush, baby, it's alright," she said softly, her voice trying to calm the agitated young man.

Harry started towards where Patty and Anton were standing. His anger was reaching the boiling point, and Patty felt herself enfolded in Anton's loving arms. "This is your doing," he sneered. "Why didn't you and that nazi lover of yours just stay the hell where you were?"

"I came because I was worried about Sharon, and given what I have seen here, perhaps I had a very good reason," Patty said, her words laced in absolute anger as she looked at Anton. "You remember what you told me twelve years ago about my father?"

"When he came into the garage?" Anton asked.

"Yes, you said you overheard him muttering under his breath about no one loving him. You distinctly heard him saying that in his whole life no one had ever loved him," Patty said. "Do you remember?"

"Yes," Anton nodded.

Harry raised his head and looked at his daughter's husband. "You heard that?"

"Yes," came the simple response.

"Well, given what I've seen and experienced, I can't help but wonder how you could expect anyone to love you?" Patty asked. "You think that you're better than everyone else, and that if anyone even says otherwise, then you accuse them of contradicting you. I think the whole thing about the heart attack was nothing more than a lie that was started by our mother as a way of trying to make Sharon feel obligated about staying in Jenkinsville and working the store. You're not really sick, are you? You're nothing more than a twisted, demented man who uses bully tactics to push his weight around…"

Anton watched this, but something in Harry Bergan's stance struck him and in an instant, the former POW knew something that the rest of them were unaware of. Harry's eyes had started to roll back into his had and his eyelids began to flutter. As he watched Harry start to stumble towards them, he spoke to his wife, his voice interrupting her flow of words. "…Schatz, it was no lie, your father is a very sick man."

"How can you tell?" She whispered as she felt her husband center himself between Harry and Patty.

"Beyond this overtly angry demeanor, his eyes cannot hide the physical pain he's in. I've seen this more times than I can count because children do it a lot to keep from getting shots or having to take medicine. Adults do it because they are scared of what could be if they were to admit to having the pain," Anton responded, his voice laced in what could only be described as pity.

Instead of continuing to speak, he watched as Patty's father's steps began to waver and the beads of sweat suddenly covered his face.

It was clear that, Harry Bergen was doing everything he could to stay on his feet, but eventually, his strength gave out and he felt his body as it crumbled to the ground in a heap.


	24. Chapter 24

_Welcome to the next installment. I have another disclaimer here. I am not a doctor, nor am I aware of what the medical practices were back in 1956. I am, in fact, drawing in to the basic first aid that I learned in elementary school back in the mid 70's. So, please bear with me here. But, do enjoy and let me know what you think. I just celebrated my 40th birthday, and would love to see lots of comments on this story. (nudge nudge). Heheh.

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**Chapter 24**

The townspeople who were present merely stood and stared as Harry Bergen collapsed. Without thinking about what he was doing, Anton rushed forward. Before his father-in-law had hit the ground, the former POW used his own body to cushion the fall.

Anton's expression was grave as he managed to inch his way out from beneath Harry's weight. Once he had managed, he gently laid the man on the ground before turning and addressing his wife. "We need to get him comfortable," he instructed. She nodded and without a word, she took off in the direction of the store.

Next, he turned and faced the sheriff. "You must go and call an ambulance."

Not missing a beat, Sheriff Cauldwell heeded and raced off in the direction of his office in order to patch through the call.

Within seconds, Patty had returned with a blanket and pillow. She had known that of all the shops that were situated along the perimeters of the main square, her parents' was the only one that could possibly have had the items in question on stock.

Anton remained with Harry, but cast a quick glance towards the heavens just before blinking against the harsh summer sun as it beat down on them.

Wordlessly, he leaned over and rested his head against Harry's chest. Upon hearing his father-in-law's sporadic heartbeat, he reached for the man's wrist and felt for a pulse. This too seemed rather irregular and Anton could only conclude that although Harry was still breathing, it seemed as though he had just run the length of Main Street after having smoked an entire pack of cigarettes.

Seconds ticked slowly by as Anton moved his head until his ear was barely touching Harry's mouth. In this stance, his cheek would act as a sensor that would indicate whether or not the older man was still breathing or, at the very least, if his heart was actually pumping blood.

In response to this action, Anton detected absolutely nothing. Acting on instinct alone, he began to loosen Harry's tie as well as the top buttons of his shirt. He then moved his head in order to rest it once again against the older man's chest. Much to his dismay, he could neither hear nor detect anything further, the uneven heartbeat had all but faded away. Harry's chest was no longer rising or falling and this told Anton that he had to act quickly.

Moments later, a crowd started to assemble around where Harry was lying. Instead of focusing on this, however, Anton's attention was briefly distracted when he heard a weak feminine voice rising from the hushed whispers of the crowd.

"Anton, please, do something."

The voice belonged to Sharon and for reasons he could not explain, she somehow believed that he possessed the power to save her father's life. He kept his head raised for a split second as he noticed how her uninjured eye seemed to be following his every movement.

Without uttering any sort of response, Anton began to administer mouth to mouth resuscitation. He did not know if this would help, since Harry was having a heart attack and this action seemed futile at best. After all, without any sort of medication or even a stethoscope on hand, there was very little he could do under these unbelievable circumstances.

Moments later, Sheriff Cauldwell returned and spoke. "People, please give him some room." In response to this, the crowd backed up two or three steps. Satisfied, the lawman turned to Anton. "Hang on, son, they're on their way. Lucky for Harry, you're here to render assistance."

Anton nodded and continued to administer basic first aid. No one was even remotely certain if the actions taken by the German doctor would even help, but for Anton, hearing the motivational words emerging from the sheriff seemed to give him the needed incentive to continue trying. This was by far a better option than simply leaving Harry to suffer, and perhaps dying, in front of this crowd of clueless townspeople.

After doing her part to help, Patty stepped away from her father and husband and backed towards where her sister was standing and watching. As she stood there, she wordlessly wrapped her arm around Sharon's shoulder as a means of offering comfort.

Time slowly ticked by, and after hearing the peals of a distant siren, Anton raised his head briefly as a relieved sigh emerged from him. The ambulance would soon be there.

Returning his attention to the patient, Anton knew that based entirely on what he had just witnessed that perhaps Harry Bergen had vastly underestimated his current medical condition. His temperament seemed case in point to that assertion. Of course, between the rumors and the gossip, no one in Jenkinsville really knew with any sort of accuracy what was the matter with the local merchant. All they had known was what they had been told.

Seconds later, Anton's attempts were soon rewarded when Harry Bergen started to breathe again. It no longer mattered that the man had verbally assaulted him or Patty. Instead there was an internal knowing that they had been in the right place at the right time. He could now see that Harry's chest was rising and falling in a more even synchronicity.

Around him, the observers started whispering amongst themselves about how Anton Reiker, a former POW in their town, had single-handedly saved Harry Bergen's life.

The ambulance quickly approached before coming to a stop nearby. Seconds later, the blaring siren was shut off and the paramedics disembarked. Quickly, they make their way over to where Anton was still seated on the ground. As soon as they had arrived, the young doctor inched away so as to grant them access to the patient.

Quietly, they began to work as Anton suddenly felt his adrenaline rush reaching an abrupt end and his head lowered into both of his hands.

Silence descended on the crowd as one of the paramedics raised his head and spoke. "Can someone tell us what exactly happened?"

"That Nazi saved Mr. Bergen's life," someone spoke up, and Patty immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Edna Louise Jackson.

Without warning, Anton's face flushed, but Kathy turned and looked at the woman with unhidden contempt in her gaze. "How dare you?" She snapped.

"What?" Edna Louise shot back. "He asked what happened, and I told him."

"I agree," Jimmy Wells shouted above the soft murmurs of the crowd. "The man asked a question and she answered. If you ask me, I'd rather be dead than to have someone like that save my bacon."

"So, instead of staying alive, you would prefer to lie dead while the local dogs peed on your useless body," Kathy snapped.

"Honey," David rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"No," she shouted as she regarded the people who were standing and observing what was happening. "Both that man and that woman have resorted to childish name calling and half of you just stand around listening to it." As she spoke, her gaze now shifted until she was looking at the various people standing around. "Their cruel words are simply a reflection of all of your ignorance, is that not so?"

The people looked at one another as Kathy continued speaking. "You decided who was the enemy and whose side God stood on. Well, that war ended close to twelve years ago, and yet, you are going about as though any person who comes from Germany is still the enemy. Did you know that Nazism is against the law in Germany? Do you even care, or do you have to take your own life failures and conceal them by insulting someone else?"

The paramedic turned towards Anton. "Would you please tell us your name and specifically what happened? These people don't seem to realize why I was asking this question in the first place."

Anton nodded, but instead of responding to Kathy's arguments or the insults that were flying, he responded to the inquiry on a more professional level. "I'm Doctor Frederick Anton Reiker and I believe that Mr. Bergen had a heart attack. For some moments he had stopped breathing, so I tried basic first aid, but there was very little I could do." As he spoke, he turned to see that Patty had come over and seated herself next to him.

Reaching her husband, she rested her head against his shoulder and watched as the paramedics placed Harry's body on a stretcher. As they were doing this, she turned to him and spoke, her voice soft. "Is he going to be alright, Anton?"

"He should be," Anton responded, his voice soft. "The ambulance got here just in time." He leaned over and wound his arms around her and pulled her closer. "They never prepared me for this in medical school."

"What do you mean?" She asked. "You were wonderful."

"Perhaps, but this is a far cry different than practicing on a dummy in a classroom," he said softly, as one of the paramedics spoke, thus interrupting them.

"We're taking him to Wynne City Memorial," he informed them. "I am assuming that you two can let his family know?"

"Of course," Patty said plainly as they got off the ground and watched as the two men started to wheel Harry over to the waiting vehicle. Reaching it, they loaded the gurney into the back. Seconds later, one of them climbed in while the other closed the door.

Moments later, the ambulance driver started the motor and the vehicle sped away.

Once it was gone, Sheriff Cauldwell looked at Sharon and Patty. "You should go and inform your mother of what has happened."

Sharon nodded, "I'll go and let her know," she whispered as she turned and looked at Freddy. "I know it's asking a lot, but would you take us to the hospital?"

Freddy Dowd nodded as he started to walk with her back in the direction of the Bergen house.

At that moment, Kathy came over and rested her hand on both Patty and Anton's shoulders. "Are you both alright?" She asked as Ruth silently approached as well.

"I think so," Patty whispered as she looked at Anton, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I can't believe what I saw just now. I mean; what you did was absolutely amazing."

"I don't know if what I did really helped," Anton confessed. "I was sort of improvising the whole time."

"Well, from where I was standing, it looked as though you knew exactly what you were doing," David said. "Maybe that was how it looked to the other people who were hanging around." He paused. "I think you really are a hero, Anton."

"I don't know about that," Anton said modestly. "I just knew that I couldn't sit idly by and watch him die." He slowly reached over and touched his wife's face. "It may not make much of a difference to your father in the long run, but I don't think I did it for him. I think I did it for you and your sister, Liebling."

"I think what you did will make a difference in the long run," Kathy said. "The paramedics saw that you had been trying to help, and the people who were standing around watching also saw what you did. They would have to be fools with hearts of stone to not acknowledge the effort you made."

"Your words may have had an impact too, Kathy," Patty said. "You reminded them that history belongs where it is; in the past."

David nodded as he reached over and rested his hand on Patty's shoulder. "Perhaps, but I do believe that between Anton's actions and Kathy's words; what will ultimately be laid to rest here will not be your father. Instead it will be these horrible rumors that the Bergen family have concocted about the two of you. Maybe that's the underlying reason as to why you came back."

"Maybe," she whispered. "But, I don't think it really matters. I know the truth, I saw it and perhaps that was enough." As she spoke, she looked deeply into the eyes of her husband.

Amidst all of that, the words David had spoken carried an element of truth as well. For the first time since they had arrived in Jenkinsville, Patricia Ann Reiker knew beyond any doubt that there was a reason for them to have come after all.

She reached for Anton's hand and when he surrendered it, she felt his touch and knew that he acknowledged this to be the truth as well.


	25. Chapter 25

_Doing my best to get these chapters up. I wanted to finish this by November 30, but it looks as though I will be lucky getting it done by Christmas. But, things are starting to wind down, so maybe before I leave town. Hope you enjoy._

_Please review.

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**Chapter 25**

Sharon and Freddy arrived at the Bergen house and she rushed towards the front door. "Mother!" She called out and instead of Pearl answering, the housekeeper appeared on the front porch, a scowl stretching her lips into a thin line.

"She's not here," the woman said, her voice laced in curt undertones. "What in God's name has happened to you, Miss Sharon?"

Ignoring the inquiry, Sharon spoke, her voice emerging in the very same rude cadence as the housekeeper's had done. "Where'd she go?"

"To Wynne City. She had an appointment with Ellie Mae for a wash and setting. Now, ain't you gonna tell me what happened and why you look as you do?"

Sharon took a deep breath. She had completely forgotten about her disheveled state. In lieu of a response, she shook her head before turning and fleeing from the porch and over to where Freddy was still standing and waiting. The housekeeper's interrogation had abruptly ended before it could begin.

Aside from her being in an absolute rush, the prospect of ingesting warmed over meatloaf was about as appealing as a tetanus shot. Without another thought to the hostile housekeeper, Sharon reached where Freddy as standing.

"My mother's already in Wynne City, at Ellie Mae's Hair Salon," she said, her voice out of breath. "Do you know where that is?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's that girly pink place in the center of downtown."

"Can you take me there?"

"I already said I would, didn't I?" He asked with a calm smirk shadowing his face. "Come on, let's get going. Maybe Patty and Anton will want to come along."

"I doubt it. I mean; you saw what happened right before my father collapsed," she began.

"I know that story all too well," he mused as he cast a glance in the direction of his father's tin-roofed house.

Following his glance, Sharon spoke. "You said that you had come to Jenkinsville to visit your family, and now we've somehow managed to make a complete mess of that," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Dad'll understand. He knows that things like this can't be helped," he said. They made their way back down the street in the direction of where his truck was parked. Once they had reached it, he noticed that the crowd had dispersed and only five people remained standing on the side of the road.

"Where's Mother?" Patty asked as they approached.

"Getting her hair done, where else?" Sharon said, her voice laced in sarcasm. "Freddy said that he'd take me to Wynne City. Do you guys want to come along."

"No," Patty said resolutely. "I think it would be better for us to stay here. Besides, right now and if truth be told, I have nothing to say to him. If or when I do decide to face him again, it will be on my terms, not his. Besides, I'd rather do it when he's here and unable to manipulate me because of a hospital bed."

Anton nodded as he looked at Sharon. "I think you should go find your mother and see if you can find out how he's doing. It will probably take a while before they can tell you anything, though." He turned and looked at Freddy. "I trust that you will stay with her."

Freddy nodded. "That's my intention." Without another word, he backed away as Sharon went over and threw herself into the arms of her brother-in-law.

"Thank you for helping him," she whispered as she kissed his cheek.

"I don't know how much I did, Sharon," he said as he embraced her. "But, I'm glad that I was here when it happened."

Nodding, she backed away before getting into the passenger seat of the truck. Once she closed the door, the truck roared to life, and drove away in a cloud of dust.

Once it was gone, Patty looked at her husband. "You don't think I'm wrong for not going with them, do you?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't. Given how your father reacted to you just before it happened, I cannot imagine you, or anyone else merely dismissing it and rushing to the hospital. Perhaps in time, when your father finds out what really happened, he will better understand the choices you made and why you made them."

"Maybe," Patty whispered as she felt herself being drawn into his loving arms. "But, Sharon was right about one thing."

"What is that?" He asked softly as he brushed his lips across the top of her head.

"You really are a hero," she whispered.

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Twenty minutes after leaving the Jenkinsville main square, Freddy pulled up to the front of the Ellie Mae's Hair Salon and cut the motor. He remained where he was while Sharon got out and started to make her way over to the pink framed door that led inside.

Opening it, she walked confidently into the salon. Several heads turned and stared at the teenage girl with the bandaged head approaching the seat where Pearl Bergen sat.

The woman's head was covered with a pink colored towel and her hands were draped casually over the arm rests of the chair and dipped in two bowls filled with solution.

Approaching, Sharon casually cleared her throat, which caused Pearl to raise her head. Seeing her daughter, she spoke, her words laced in a demand. "Sharon, what are you doing here and why do you have that gauze on your face?"

Sharon took a deep breath as she readied herself to respond to her mother's curt tone of voice. Instead of getting angry, as she felt herself inclined to do, she responded in the same exact manner. "Father is in the hospital," she said, her matter-of-fact words hanging lazily in the air as opposed to merely lashing out in suppressed anger.

"What are you talking about?" Pearl demanded as she got to her feet, turned around, and practically stared her daughter down.

"Just what I'm said," Sharon responded dully. "Something happened to him after you left to come here." She paused and taking a deep breath, she continued. "When I got back into town a little while ago…"

"…Where did you go?" Pearl asked.

"I went to see a doctor," Sharon said.

"What for?"

"I wanted to find out if the injuries that Father inflicted on me this morning would cause any permanent damage," Sharon snapped. Her words shut Pearl up long enough so that she could continue her explanation. "The doctor has ordered me not to go back home at least until I've healed."

"What does any of this have to do with your father?"

"It has everything to do with him. Father was tossing accusations around town saying that it was Anton who beat me up, but it wasn't. It was all nonsense based entirely on the rumors that you and he started. The truth is, you've been playing both sides of the fence since I spoke with Patty about what was going on."

"Sharon!" Pearl snapped.

Without so much as acknowledging her mother's outburst, Sharon continued relating the events of the morning to her mother. "Father would have died this morning if Patty's husband hadn't have been around to help. A bunch of the townspeople saw it happen and they watched helplessly as he fell to the ground. Instead of making a fuss about all the crap people were saying about him, Anton did everything he could to help."

"Excuse me?" Pearl asked.

"It's just what I said, Anton used his knowledge of medicine and helped save Father's life," Sharon responded. "If he hadn't have been there, Father would probably have died."

Instead of questioning further, Pearl took a deep breath before her next question emerged. This one was completely unrelated to what they had been discussing. "Alright then, would you mind telling me how you managed to get here?"

"After the housekeeper told me where you went, Freddy Dowd drove me here so I could tell you what happened. Then he said that he would take me to the hospital. I don't expect getting in to see Father immediately, but I promised Sheriff Cauldwell that I'd come find you and let you know."

"Where is your sister?" Pearl asked. "Is she outside, too?"

"No, she decided not to come," Sharon said.

"Why not?" Pearl asked. "Doesn't she care about her father?" Before Sharon could so much as respond, she continued. "I would think that if she did, then she'd be here."

"If she did care, then I think she does in her own way and shouldn't be put under scrutiny because of it," Sharon snapped. "The problem is neither of you seem to care anything about her, so how can you expect her to care about you? Everything with you is based on conditions and false expectations." As she spoke, her voice was loud enough that the other inhabitants of the beauty parlor could hear her every word.

Several heads turned and stared as she continued speaking. "Do you think that if she didn't care, she would have encouraged her husband to help save his life?"

"Keep your voice down," Pearl snapped noting that the other customers were staring.

"Why should I?" Sharon shot back before backing her way towards the door. "You didn't keep yours down? You spread rumors about my sister and her husband. Then when I found out that the rumors were false, I got the crap beaten out of me and was betrayed because I blindly trusted you to keep my confidence. I guess it was only enough for me to blindly keep yours, but forget about you keeping mine. After all, what is the difference between lying to a customer about a dress and lying to me; your own daughter?"

Pearl's face lost much of it's color as Sharon's accusations continued.

"You have been trying to punish Patty for making choices and living her life, but one thing is clear, she's a far better person for having done what she did. Maybe the reason you didn't want me to call her was not only because of Anton, but because she had the courage to do the very thing that I had been dragging my feet about doing. I think now I can do it without any regret whatsoever."

"What are you talking about?" The woman demanded.

"I've been thinking about leaving Jenkinsville," Sharon said firmly.

"You can't," Pearl objected. "What about the store? What about your father? He needs you."

"No he doesn't, and besides, I'm eighteen now," Sharon said. "Daddy himself once said that I could be as good as Shirley Temple, so maybe I should go out to Hollywood and see if there is any validity to that or if it was just another story. Either way, I will at least find out what is true and what is not." She paused. "I can well imagine that you probably wanted me to stay here so that I could work the store, but now, after everything that happened this morning, I've finally seen the light. I am not going to stay here and have you and Father dictate to me who I can be friends with, and where I can and cannot go."

Pearl's face was as white as a bed sheet by the time her daughter had finished speaking. "Perhaps instead of discussing your hasty decisions, we should be getting to the hospital," she said weakly as she pulled the towel from her head.

Sharon smiled slightly upon hearing these words. Perhaps Mother doesn't have an argument to even top that, she thought as she watched Pearl wiped her hands on the towels that were placed on the counter in front of her chair.

Before exiting the salon, she cast a glance towards her reflection in the nearest mirror. Noting that her hair was ruffled, she grabbed a comb and raked it through the curly tresses before tossing it, along with a five-dollar bill, onto the counter and abruptly leaving.

Wordlessly, Sharon turned and followed her mother outside.


	26. Chapter 26

_This chapter is a little bit longer than the previous ones, but it's probably one of my favorites. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

_

**Chapter 26**

Thirty minutes later, Pearl and Sharon Bergen were seated in a chair inside a doctor's office. The man was consulting a clipboard before raising his head and looking across the desk at them. Although Pearl had insisted that Sharon wait outside, the teenager was more than determined about being present during this particular consultation.

It was also abundantly clear that the younger of the two wanted to hear the prognosis directly, not be subject to anymore of her mother's tall tales or exaggerations. The trust that the teenager carried towards her mother had been completely shattered.

Now, instead of so much as looking at Pearl, the youngest of the Bergen women sat stoically and waited. The doctor, who introduced himself as Dr. Gerald Robinson eventually cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice a mixture between empathy and firmness.

"Your husband is still in the ICU, but by later this afternoon, they should have him stabilized and he will be moved out of there and into a private room," the doctor began.

Sharon nodded as she got to her feet and began to pace the room, her eyes scanning the place for some sort of familiarity. Finding none, she returned to the chair and sat back down.

"When can he come home?" Pearl eventually asked, her voice causing Sharon's gaze to shift from the bookshelf to the gray headed man seated behind the desk.

"I have already consulted with Dr. Warren," he said. "As you know, he is your husband's regular cardiologist and knows Mr. Bergen's case better than anyone else here."

"Where is he?" Pearl asked.

"He's on call in another department and has asked me to look over your husband's case," Dr. Robinson responded. "Through our mutual consultations, we have both concluded that your husband might be able to return home by the end of the week. This would only be if he takes it easy and does not allow himself to get worked up." As he spoke, he glanced down at the clipboard once again.

"That's five days away," Pearl objected.

"Yes, I know, but given what information I have, I would not estimate his release date to be any sooner," he said. Before Pearl could so much as offer another objection, he continued speaking. "On another note, it is my duty to inform you of what the paramedics related to me after they brought him in."

"What did they say?" Sharon asked before her mother could so much as open her mouth.

"According to their reports, there was someone on hand who assisted your father after he collapsed on the street," the doctor said.

Sharon nodded mutely, her actions affirming the doctor's words.

Upon seeing this, the doctor continued. "If this young man had not been present to conduct basic first aid, then Harry Bergen might not have survived the attack at all," the doctor said bluntly.

"Aren't you exaggerating, Dr. Robinson?" Pearl asked. Somehow Sharon could tell that her mother did not want to even believe or accept the fact that Anton was capable of saving her husband's life.

In lieu of a verbal response, the doctor merely shook his head as Sharon spoke up. "Then it's just like I said back in town, Anton really did save my father's life," she whispered as her entire body tensed up and the words hung lazily in the air. Moments passed as she waited patiently for the doctor to respond.

"Yes, I would say with almost absolute certainty that your father was very lucky to have had Anton on hand to initiate breathing."

Pearl looked at Sharon, the shock literally washing over her as she tried to find the words she wanted to say. "This is all just hearsay though. No one has any proof that your sister's husband saved Harry's life," she mumbled as the teenager turned and looked at her.

"This is not just hearsay," Sharon snapped. "I was there and I saw everything myself. Anton was doing everything he could to get Father to start breathing again. For what it's worth, Jimmy Wells and Edna Louise Jackson were there too, but all they could do was stand, stare, and shoot off their big mouths."

"What about your sister?" Pearl asked. "What did she do?"

"She had gone to get a blanket and pillow from the store, because Anton wanted to make him comfortable," Sharon said. She took a deep breath, but almost anticipating her mother's next question, she continued. "Sheriff Cauldwell went to call the ambulance. The rest of them just stood around looking stupid and not saying or doing much of anything. When Anton got down on the ground, instead of being helpful, Edna Louise and Jimmy started talking about how a 'nazi' was saving my Father's life."

The doctor's eyebrows arched slightly, but instead of saying anything, he sat and listened with apt interest as Sharon's words continued.

"What no one seems to accept is the fact that Anton isn't a nazi. I don't think he ever was," Sharon said firmly. "He's German, but he's not our enemy anymore. The war is over; it has been for more than ten years. What happened back in town should demonstrate that his intentions are noble."

Pearl took a deep breath, but instead of acknowledging Sharon's words, she looked at the doctor. "Can I see my husband?"

The doctor exchanged glances with Sharon, but eventually nodded. "He should be ready to receive guests, but I can notify them in ICU if you would like to see him right now. It won't be as comfortable since he has not yet been moved to a regular room." He paused and taking a deep breath, he continued. "I must emphasize that he is not to get worked up about anything. The last thing anyone here needs is for him to have a relapse."

Pearl nodded as she turned and looked at her daughter, her eyes laced in hostility. "That means you are not to tell him anything about what happened back in town, not even if he asks." Without so much as waiting for the teenager to offer a response, the woman got to her feet and left the office, the door closing swiftly behind her.

Once she was gone, Sharon started to stand up and follow, but then stopped abruptly when the doctor's words emerged. "It's not always easy for someone to release the prejudices of the past. I guess this could especially apply to people like your parents. Try not to be so hard on them. After all, the older one gets, the more difficult it is to acclimate oneself to change."

"I don't hate them, but just because I don't see things in the same way, doesn't mean that I should be punished for it," she whispered as she self-consciously touched her bandaged face.

"I know, but it does seem rather obvious that you would like for your parents to at least try and see the world in a more optimistic way," he said. "Of course, given that particular history, one cannot always let go of the past, even if it seems like the right thing to do."

"But, they should," she objected. "I mean; Anton is my sister's husband now and he's nothing like what I expected. He's really nice." Her voice lowered as her next words emerged. "So is his dad."

"His dad?" The doctor asked. "How would you know this?"

"Just before my sister and Anton returned to Jenkinsville, I had called their place trying to convince Patty not to come. Anton's father was there. He said that he was picking up their cat. Anyway, he answered the phone and I got to talk to him," Sharon said freely. "Even though I was probably not very nice to him, I couldn't help but think about how great it was to talk to someone who was older than me who didn't yell or talk down at me. He was really smart and made me think of stuff that I hadn't really considered before."

"Such as?"

"I don't know if I can explain it," she began.

"Just try," he said.

"Well, I know what I want to say, but am not sure if it will make any sense," she said. "I guess deep down inside I knew the truth, but this was before they came and I could not deny that I felt strangely about it. Then I talked to Mr. Reiker and I had a chance to think about everything in a different way. Soon after that, I talked to Anton and I realized how wrong I had been about him."

"He wasn't like you thought, was he?" Dr. Robinson asked.

"No, and then I saw what he did for my father…" Her voice trailed.

"I see," he said nodding his head as he slowly got to his feet and came around the desk in order to stand next to a group of awards that hung on the nearby wall. "Then perhaps I can tell you what I have always believed about Anton Reiker. Regardless of what anyone else said about him, I knew that he was a good sort of person. What he did for your father is case in point to that assertion."

"You knew him?" She asked. When he nodded, she continued. "But, how?"

In lieu of a response, the doctor turned towards the wall and extended his hand towards one of the many plaques that graced the wall. Finding the one he wanted, he pulled it down from its place on the wall before returning to where Sharon was seated and handing it to her.

Accepting the object, she looked down at the faded ink that covered what looked to a service award. On the left side of the certificate was the familiar stamp from the prison camp. It was the very same as what was stamped inside the book of essays that Sharon had been reading in the hideout.

Running her hand over the object, Sharon swallowed the lump that was now lodged in her throat. "Y-you knew him?"

"Quite well, yes," he said nodding his head. "In fact, I probably knew him better than any other American at that POW camp."

"That's how you met him?" She asked as she returned the framed award to him.

"I worked at the infirmary during the war and Anton was someone I got to know quite well. It was during the time just before his escape. Soon after that, I crossed paths with your sister as well as a lady reporter from Memphis." As he was speaking he returned the framed certificate to the wall and made his way back over to his chair behind the desk.

"It doesn't help me very much though," she mused. "I still don't know what to do about my parents."

"Sometimes parents have to learn the same lessons as their children. Many do not discover it because they have lost something that is rather reminiscent of youthful innocence. This is something that you cannot force them to learn."

"But there must be something I can do," Sharon objected. "I mean; I can't just sit in Jenkinsville and have them dictate to me what I'm supposed to think, feel, or believe."

The doctor shook his head. "That is true. Given what I have seen with you and your mother, I don't think you can do that." He paused for several moments as he searched for the words he wanted to say. "Let me ask you something. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Well, at eighteen you are now old enough to decide for yourself where you want to go or what you want to do," he said smiling. "These are the best years of your life so maybe what you need to do is get out there and enjoy them. If you cannot fathom living with the status quo, then perhaps it is time for you to take a step and try and change it."

"Change it?" Sharon asked. "You mean; leave?"

"If that is what your conscience is telling you, then perhaps now is the time to heed that suggestion," he said with understanding in his voice.

"I've actually been thinking about leaving for some time now," Sharon confessed. "But, with my father in this state, I don't know if I can, especially if my mother doesn't want him to know the truth."

The doctor nodded. "While I concur with the assertion that neither you nor your mother should tell him, but I do think that your father really does need to know the truth about who saved his life. Even if you and I both know that he will refuse to embrace it. Of course, your mother was actually right about one thing and that is the fact that this news could agitate him. For that reason, I believe that the one who ought to inform him of what had transpired is me."

"You'd do that?" Sharon asked as her gaze locked with his. When she saw him nodding, she continued. "Thank you."

"The pleasure is mine," he said simply.

* * *

When Harry Bergen opened his eyes, the white colored hospital walls met his expectant gaze. Glancing down, he noticed that he was dressed in one of those repulsive backless hospital shifts. As an apparent groan emerged from between his lips, the door abruptly opened and his wife entered the tiny private room.

The first thing he noticed was that her hair was in a great state of disarray, thus indicating that she must have heard of his being brought to the hospital while seated at the hairdresser's.

He watched as she came over to where he was lying and seated herself next to his bed. It was clear that seeing him awake made her release the breath she had been holding.

"Hello Harry?" She greeted him, her voice laced in a strange mixture between worry and relief.

He nodded, but instead of speaking, he licked his dry lips and waited for her to say something. He almost anticipated what she was going to say, and for the life of him the last thing he remembered was stepping outside the store and walking towards his daughter as well as a small group of people who were assembled along the street back in Jenkinsville.

"What the hell happened?" He eventually found his voice and spoke.

"I don't really know except what Sharon and the doctor told me," she said. "Before we got here, Sharon showed up at Ellie Mae's and said that you had another attack."

Harry's only response was a slight grunt, but before he could say another word, the door opened and he had to strain his neck to see that the new arrivals were his youngest daughter and a man who looked to be in his mid to late fifties.

He was dressed in a white lab coat, thus indicating that he was a doctor. In one hand he held a clipboard. "Mister Bergen?" He spoke as he crossed the room and seated himself in the chair that was placed on the other side of the bed. "It's nice to see that you're awake."

"What happened to me?" He demanded. "The last thing I remember was coming out of the store."

"You had another heart attack, Mr. Bergen," the doctor stated.

"That much I guessed, but were you able to find out why?" He asked.

"Stress," the doctor said simply. "You would have died had one of the townspeople not been there to administer basic first aid."

"It must have been Jimmy Wells," Harry said with a nod of his head. "He's always been a good boy."

"It wasn't Jimmy, Daddy," Sharon spoke up. "He was there, but he was standing around like an idiot staring. He was probably too drunk to even say 'basic first aid', much less try to administer it."

Pearl glanced over at her daughter, her eyes laced in anger. It was clear that her gaze was screaming the words, 'you cannot tell him'.

Instead of allowing these battles with words to continue, the doctor cleared his throat before consulting his chart. After several seconds had passed, he looking back over at the man lying in the hospital bed. "According to the report submitted by the paramedics, a fellow by the name of Frederick Anton Reiker was on hand to help when you collapsed. If not for him, I can only ascertain that you would have died."

Harry raised his head and looked at the doctor, his eyes filling with anger. "I refuse to believe for even one second that that nazi would ever be capable of saving my life."

"But Daddy, he did," Sharon said softly. "Anton's not a nazi. I don't think he ever was."

"Are you contradicting me?" Harry snapped.

"Maybe I am, but it's only because you're wrong about him, you both are. No matter what happens, you'll never convince me that Anton's the bad guy." She looked at her mother. "Not even after you betrayed me." Her attention shifted as she looked at her father. "And you beat me up."

"Sharon!" Pearl spoke. "You can't mean this."

"I do, and I don't care what anyone else says. After seeing what Anton did, I will never believe any of the horrible things you've said about him." She closed her eyes as she took a deep breath and sought the courage to say what she really felt. "I have decided that as soon as I leave here, I'm going back to the house and will pack my things."

"Pack?" Pearl asked. "Why?"

"Because I'm moving out."

Upon hearing these words, Pearl and Harry Bergen exchanged unhappy glances as Sharon walked confidently over towards the door and silently left the room.

Once she was gone, Harry looked at the doctor. "You see what you've done!" He shouted.

"I did nothing more than tell you the truth. What your daughter chooses is up to her. Now that I've told you what happened, I can only suggest that you calm down or you may find yourself having another attack. If that happens, then Anton is not here to make certain that you survive it," the doctor said bluntly.

He got up and approached the door leading outside. At the door, he abruptly stopped and turned around before addressing the couple once again. "It's a very good thing that this is Wynne City and not Jenkinsville."

"What are you getting at, Doctor?" Harry asked.

"It's really quite simple," he said smiling. "Lies and rumors do not amount to a hill of beans here. No one in this facility is going to get angry or upset about the fact that Anton Reiker took the incentive to save your life. In fact, most people around here would view him as I presently view him."

"And how is that?" Pearl asked weakly.

"A hero, Mrs. Bergen," Doctor Robinson said firmly. "He is someone who was able to look beyond hate and malice. In doing so, he cast all his prejudices aside in order to help another person. Now, you may not want to believe or acknowledge it, but Anton Reiker saved your life, Mr. Bergen. The sooner that you both acknowledge and accept that fact, the better it will be for all parties involved."

"I'll never accept that," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Then you will miss out on knowing an extraordinary human being," the doctor said simply.

"Extraordinary?" Harry scoffed.

"Yes, and I would conclude that your oldest daughter recognized that when she married him."

"I don't have a daughter," the angry man in the hospital bed snapped.

As Doctor Robinson stood up and started to make his way over to the door leading outside. "It's truly ironic," he said as he reached it and turned around.

"What is ironic?" Harry asked.

"The fact that just over a decade ago, our brave young soldiers were fighting to eradicate the very same evil hatred that you are openly embracing about a young man who saved your life." He paused, thus allowing his words to sink in. "I don't know if I should be disgusted by your level of ignorance, or simply feel sorry for you."

With those words still hanging in the air, the doctor left the room.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Sharon was standing in the hallway and leaning against it when Freddy approached her. "How is he?" He asked as a greeting. If truth were known, he did not much care about Harry Bergen, but he did care about Sharon and he could tell that this was leaving a profound impact on her.

"Grouchy," Sharon said. "I guess things will get back to normal now, huh?" She offered him a weak smile, her eyes laced in a strange mixture of sadness and determination.

"You don't want them to go back to the way they were before, though, do you?" He asked, a small smile touching his lips. "I can tell by looking at you that that is the last thing you would ever wish for."

"You're right, I don't," she said softly as she looked over at him. It was at that moment and for the first time that she was able to look beyond everything she had ever heard about him. The rumors and hateful words no longer mattered, because what she saw was a kind and loving friend standing beside her and that was all that mattered. "Freddy, why are you so easy to talk to?"

"I don't know," he said shrugging his shoulders. "I never really thought much about it. I just know that friends should be there for each other and help out when they can."

"True, and you're a really good friend," she said. "I mean; you helped me get to the doctor this morning, and then you brought me back here without getting angry that you couldn't visit your folks."

"Oh don't worry anymore about that, Sharon, they'll understand," he said.

"Then they are a lot patient than what I'm used to," she confessed. "Especially since you can't deny the fact that you don't really like my parents that much."

"Well, your parents don't like me much either," he said rationally. "I guess if they had asked me to help, then it would have been harder, but since it was their daughter who asked; I couldn't refuse."

Sharon rested her hand on his shoulder. "You did it because of Patty?"

"Well, yeah, in part, but I also did it for you," he said as he looked at Sharon through bemused eyes. "You know I always liked Patty, but now she's been spoken for and her husband's not a bad guy."

"I remember how you were upset when we talked about her getting married some weeks ago," Sharon said.

Freddy shrugged his shoulders noncommittally as he glanced around the corridor before looking back over at her. "You ready to head for home?"

She nodded. "I guess so."

Before they could leave, Doctor Robinson came out of the intensive station and called out her name. "Sharon?"

She exchanged glances with Freddy before turning around and waiting for him to approach. Once he did, she raised her head and looked at him. "Did something happen after I left, Doctor?" She asked when he reached where they were standing.

"Yes, I'm afraid that it did," he said sadly as he nodded towards Freddy before turning back and facing her.

"What is it?" Sharon asked. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid that your father refuses to accept the truth and I fear that to try and pressure him to accepting it would not be wise," he said.

Freddy took a deep breath as he looked at the doctor. "He doesn't want to see Patty at all, does he?"

"No, I don't think he does," the doctor said softly as he clasped his hands together. Taking a deep breath, he continued speaking. "The truth is, both Mr. and Mrs. Bergen are so set in their ways that no one can convince them of the truth."

"But, we were there, we saw Anton save my father's life," Sharon whispered. "How can he not believe us?"

"Remember what I said about old leopards not being able to change their spots," he said. "Your parents are case in point to that. Just don't lose heart, a lot of people in Jenkinsville saw what happened and maybe in time they'll come around."

"Do you really believe that?" Sharon asked pointedly.

"No," the doctor shook his head, but offered a small smile. "It did sound optimistic, didn't it?"

Sharon nodded as Freddy looked at the doctor. "So, we should just tell Patty that she and Anton would be better off just leaving and going back home," he said.

The doctor nodded. "I'm afraid so, I would most definitely not advise any sort of reunion at this time. Perhaps in time, they will come to accept and embrace the truth for what it is."

"So, in other words, my sister coming back was a waste of time and money," Sharon said softly.

"Not necessarily, Anton still saved your father's life, and that goes way beyond what they may have paid to get here." As he spoke, the doctor rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it before slowly walking away.

Sharon watched his retreating back as she looked up at Freddy. "I think he sort of hoped that things would work out, too."

"Maybe he did, but I, for one, am really glad that Patty and Anton came back," Freddy said firmly. "It may have cost them a small fortune, but at least you know that your sister really cares about you, and now, nothing anyone says will change that."

Sharon remained silent as she contemplated what Freddy had said. Although she felt an indescribable sadness, she knew that he was right, there was a reason for their return. With her intentions clear, she and Freddy left the hospital, and drove back in the direction of Jenkinsville. There she knew what she was going to do; grab her still packed suitcases, make a quick phone call, and leave.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Sharon returned from Wynne City. After Freddy had dropped her off in front of the large structure and drove off in the direction of his father's house, she came inside the empty house. Noticing that the housekeeper was nowhere to be found, she made her way through the empty house in the direction of her father's den.

The chance to snoop in her father's papers had presented itself to her, and she had every intention of taking advantage of it. Reaching the forbidden room, the first thing she noticed was the air was dank from the smell of furniture polish and cigarettes.

Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room until she found the desk which held important papers and letters that her parents kept hidden from view. Without so much as thinking of what she was doing or why, she opened the top drawer and began digging through the various papers.

After some moments, she found exactly what she was looking for, several thin pink colored pages. The purple stenciled writing that covered them was still readable and she began to take in the words that graced the pages.

Most of them were from Patty, telling them that she was in Germany and that she would be getting married. Sharon smiled as she read the small single sentence notes, but these still did not have what she needed, so moments later, she cast them aside.

Digging a bit deeper, her fingers brushed across a letter with a strange stamp and postmark. Inside was a handmade card. It was the invitation to Patty and Anton's wedding that Deborah and Erikson Karl Reiker had sent to her parents.

The card was covered with small red hearts and flowers and the writing was in both English and German. Sharon took a deep breath and began to read the English writing that covered the left side of the card:

_Anton and Patricia_

_Will be wed on June 11, 1956 at 4 PM in the St. Matthew's Church in Göttingen. After the ceremony, there will be a party at the Old Hunter's Inn. We would like to invite you to join us for the festivities. Please let us know by the fifteenth of May if you are planning to be in attendance._

_Fondest regards,_

_Erikson Karl and Deborah Reiker_

Sharon stared at the flowing script that graced the page, before finding the telephone number she had been searching for. With the invitation still in her hand, she closed the drawer and reached for the telephone.

After glancing at the clock on the wall and seeing that it was two in the afternoon, she dialed the number that was on a separate piece of paper.

Seconds later, her call was picked up, this time the person answering was a woman. "Reiker."

"Mrs. Reiker?" Sharon spoke, this time her voice much more confident than before when she had spoken to Anton's father.

"Yes, may I ask who's calling?" Her tired voice emerged.

"My name is Sharon Bergen, I'm Patty's sister."

"Has something happened?" She asked.

"No, nothing, they're both fine," Sharon said. "I just called because there's something that I want you and your husband to know about your son."

"What's that, dear?"

"He's a hero," Sharon said as she felt the tears springing into her eyes. "I didn't realize it before, but I thought that you should know. I also wanted to tell Mr. Reiker that I appreciated him talking to me the other day and how sorry I was that I wasn't very nice to him."

"I will let him know you called," Deborah said. "He's not home right now, but I am certain that he will appreciate your honesty, Just as I do."

"Would you tell him that I'm really grateful to him for talking to me."

"Yes, I will let him know. He mentioned that you had called Anton and Patricia's home in Hildesheim when he was there to pick up their cat," she said.

Sharon took a deep breath as she tried to find the words that she wanted to say. "There's something else…" her voice trailed.

"What's that?"

"Today, Anton saved my father's life and maybe in some strange way, he somehow saved mine as well." She paused. "If he and Patty hadn't have come, then my father would not have survived the attack. That's what the doctor said anyway."

"And how did he save yours?" Deborah asked gently.

"He helped me to open my eyes," she said. "I'm not going to stay here, in fact, when I hang up the phone, I'm going to get on a train and leave."

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know, Wynne City, Memphis, I don't know," she said, as a smile broke through and she began to laugh softly. "I just know that I can't stay in Jenkinsville and listen to anymore rumors. It's time for me to be an adult and make some hard choices."

Deborah smiled. "Then you take care of yourself and let us know when you get settled."

"I will, thank you," Sharon said as she returned the phone to the receiver and with the invitation still in her hand, she left the den for the last time. One thing was clear, this was one promise that she had every intention of keeping.


	28. Chapter 28

_With this chapter, I think that it is safe to say that life is not always the happily ever after, but there is a reason for all things that happen in life, and all that we can do is embrace that._

_Please review. This is much shorter than I had anticipated, but I think it wraps up the story in the best possible way. All that is left if the epilogue._

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**Chapter 28**

At the same time Sharon and her mother were speaking with the doctor, Anton and Patty had decided that instead of returning to Ruth's house, they would go for a walk around town with Kathy and David. This was being done to divert Patty's thoughts away from her father's health as well an attempt at getting Anton out of the public eye.

David could tell instinctively that he and Kathy needed to try and get them to talk about something besides what had happened in town that morning. He had used the excuse of wanting to see the hideout where Patty had stashed Anton during those turbulent war years and Kathy seemed interested in seeing it as well.

This turned out to be the best possible diversion tactic and so the four friends had set out for the garage behind the Bergen family property.

As they reached the perimeters of her childhood home, Patty pointed to the house. "That's where I spent my, uh…formidable years," she smirked upon using the word that had somehow connected her to Anton that fateful day so many years ago.

David began to laugh and Kathy smirked. "Given what I have seen of your family, I can't think of a more fitting word," she said. "So, where is this hideout exactly?"

"I'll show you. It's not very far, just beyond those trees behind the garden," Patty said pointing. "Follow me."

Kathy started to follow the younger woman around the corner and between the loose boards in the fence. Anton remained with David who watched them climb over the fence. "This was definitely a good diversion tactic," the playwright mused.

"This?" Anton asked as he made a circular motion with one of his hands, thus indicating their outing.

"Yes," David said sadly. "Patty needed to do something to get her mind off this situation with her family. The thing is, no matter who tells her father that you saved his life, I don't think he's going to believe or accept it." As he spoke, he watched as his wife managed to climb over the fence and was standing several meters away in the yard.

"I was thinking the same thing," Anton said softly.

"Just between you and me, I can tell that Patty may not be happy about her father's actions, but she does feel something about all of this, even if it's monumental rejection or grief."

"I know," Anton mused. "The truth is, I have known of her desire to be loved and accepted by her parents ever since she was a child. Somehow, I don't believe that it will ever happen. A leopard cannot change its spots after all and after hearing Mr. Bergen just before his attack, I cannot imagine him embracing either of us. He intended on bringing harm to her, just as he did twelve years ago."

"It must have been very hard to see these things happening and being unable to do anything to stop it," David said.

"More than you know," Anton said sadly.

Before he could so much as utter another word, Patty had retraced her steps and was calling out to them. "Hey, are you guys coming?"

David nodded as he and Anton managed to climb over the fence and started to follow them across the yard towards the garage.

Within minutes, the four of them had come inside and had reached the landing that would lead up and into the hideout. Without hesitating, Patty began to ascend the stairs first, followed by David, Kathy, and finally Anton. The steps creaked and groaned beneath their weight, but no mishaps came about and soon the four of them were all standing inside the small dwelling and looking around.

Patty took a deep breath as she looked at her husband and their friends. "It hasn't really changed all that much except it somehow feels smaller," she confessed.

"Maybe that's because you are taller than you were when you were twelve," David said with a chuckle.

"To me it's still the same," Anton said.

"What's that room adjacent to this one?" David asked.

"Just a small dressing room and bathroom," Anton said.

"Do you mind if we have a look?" Kathy asked.

"Not at all," Patty said as their friends stepped into the adjacent room and the door closed behind them. I guess they wanted to give us a few minutes alone, she thought as she felt Anton's arms wrapping around her and her head coming to rest against his shoulder.

Seconds slowly ticked by as she felt his hand stroking against one side of her face. As she sank into his hold, he wordlessly smiled down at her.

After several moments of silence, he could not help but notice that there were now tears in her eyes. "Liebling, what is it?" He asked gently. "What's the matter?"

Patty tried to lower her gaze, but that was not possible as his hand was pressed against her face and preventing her from doing much of anything. "I'm just remembering what happened the night you left…"

Anton nodded as he pulled her even closer and interrupted her flow of words with an affirmation of his own. "…I'm not leaving you this time Patty."

"I know that," she managed to speak. "I just didn't expect that coming back here would send me on some strange and chaotic trip down 'memory lane'."

"You are remembering a great deal being back in this room," he said gently as he brushed his fingertips along her lips. "When was the last time you had been up here?"

"When I was eighteen, it was just after I graduated from high school and before I moved to Memphis," she said softly. "I was sitting in here and trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. It was during that time when I first started thinking about going to find you."

"Yet, you waited?" He asked.

"I guess it was because I was too afraid to try," she confessed softly, the shame some how finding its way to her cheeks.

"But, eventually you did," he said gently.

Instead of responding, Patty nodded slowly. The sounds of the distant train drew them back to the night they had said good-bye. For whatever reason, she could once again feel the tears as they relentlessly streamed down her face and she buried her face against the softness of his shirt. "I just don't want to go back to that moment again. It hurts too much."

"Maybe it wasn't your father or your sister that compelled us to come back after all," Anton whispered.

"What do you mean?" She asked. "I know you said yourself said that we should come back so that I can find closure with my parents."

"Perhaps it was not about finding closure with them at all. Maybe I didn't realize it until now that whatever it was you might have shared with them was gone long before we had planned this trip," he said.

"But, what about Sharon?" Patty asked.

"I think Sharon knows what it is she wants to do and maybe our being here helped her to find the courage to take that step," Anton said softly.

"So, our being here is really about putting the past behind us?" Patty asked.

Anton nodded. "In order to face the future, we had to see the past for what it was. Once we manage that, we move on. I believe that this was the moment we really needed. Perhaps it shows us that all is truly well. From this place, we can look together in the same direction and see our future for what it truly can be."

Patty looked at him. "That's beautiful, but Anton, what about my family? I mean; you remember telling me back home that I should not have to go through life with regret."

"I know, but I think given what you did for your father today, you have no reason whatsoever to live in regret. You have done what you could and now making contact will be up to him. The question that still remains is: Do you really want to see them again?" He asked directly.

"No, but I do have a responsibility to my sister," Patty said.

Anton nodded. "Just as I felt responsible for you back when, but I still left you."

Patty looked at him. "You regretted that?" She asked.

"Everyday," he said softly as he brushed a gentle hand through her hair.

"I love you," she whispered as she felt herself drawn into his embrace, her eyes closing as she felt his hold tightening around her.

After some moments, Kathy and David returned from their exploring and looked at the young couple who was standing in the living area with their arms tightly wrapped around one another.

Kathy looked at her husband. "I think that I have seen enough of Jenkinsville," she said bluntly. "David, when can we go home?"

"Ask Patty," David said.

Kathy nodded and looked at her friend. "What do you want to do now?"

"I don't really know," she said softly. "I mean, I do know that there really is nothing left for me here. This place was never home, not even when I was little. The truth is, now that I've seen my sister, I wonder if she would be better off without me."

"I don't think she would be better off, but I do think she might be a little bit inspired by you," Kathy said. "She doesn't belong here anymore than you do."

"I don't know," Patty mused. "Given what happened to her earlier today, I can't help but wonder if she'd be better off without me."

"I don't believe that, Liebling," Anton said softly. "Only this morning when we spoke, she was talking about leaving. It would seem to me that was serious. Perhaps what we need to do for her is to support her in this decision."

"Well, if that's what it's about, then maybe Kathy and I can give her the option of coming with us to New York," David offered.

"But, only if she wants," Kathy said firmly. "I am not keen on the idea of ripping a young woman from her roots."

"Perhaps not, but I think we should, at least, give her the option," David said as he looked at Anton. Once he got a reciprocating nod, he took a deep breath. "I think then our only option is to go and get tickets back to New York."

"There's a train that leaves tonight at ten fifteen," Patty said as she looked at Anton. "Do you remember when you left before?"

He nodded. "I do and our leaving tonight seems rather symbolic of that. Perhaps it is our way of making right the incidents of twelve years ago."

Patty nodded as she looked at her husband. "I still want to say good bye to Ruth, Freddy, and Sharon before we leave, though," she said.

"Then perhaps we should get going," David said as he started towards the door that led down into the garage.

Patty, Anton, and Kathy agreed and the four of them left Anton's hideout for the very last time.


	29. Epilogue

_Well, here it is, the last posting of this story. I am going to take a break from this before I start working on the other story. Thanks to all who read and reviewed it. _

_Here's hoping that you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sorry, if the ending seems a bit rushed, but I did not feel that there was much else to write here. Everything had happened, and there was no way for me to really elaborate on it.  


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**Epilogue**

Two weeks later, Patty and Anton boarded a plane and left the United States to return home to Germany. The days that had passed by after their leaving Jenkinsville seemed to have gone by in a blur. The events following their final visit to the hideout seemed to have passed by in a literal whirlwind.

Now, as Patty sat staring out the window of the airplane, she recalled the events that brought her and Anton to this particular moment.

Her mind drifted back to the day when they had left Jenkinsville with Kathy and David. It had been done rather spontaneously, and Ruth even commented on how she had expected it to come about after they had returned to her house that same afternoon. Patty told her friend that although it had not really changed anything between herself and her parents, that it was a good thing that they had returned. Ruth had nodded and said that a permanent bond now existed between her, Anton, and Sharon, which neither of her parents would ever be able to break.

Later, after returning to New York, Kathy and David had a much better understanding for what Patty had done for Anton more than a decade before. They realized how difficult it must have been for her, and they acknowledged the fact that this had brought the closure that Patty desperately needed.

A week after he had suffered the heart attack, Harry Bergen returned home from the hospital to find that not only Patty and Anton were gone, but Sharon had moved out as well. _I am not leaving to go to New York, even though David and Kathy had offered it to me,_ her note had said. _Instead, I am moving to Wynne City, find a job, and start over._

This had horrified Harry Bergen, but it turned out to be precisely what Sharon had done. With the help from Freddy Dowd, she found a small apartment and had obtained a new address before Patty and Anton had left the country. The address, she wired to them in the form of a letter, which arrived the day before they were scheduled to depart from New York City.

Sharon had not only written to her sister and brother-in-law, but she had also written a long letter to Kathy and David as well as one addressed to 'Mr. and Mrs. Reiker'.

This reminded Anton that Sharon had spoken to his father some days before they had arrived in Jenkinsville, but the news of her having spoken to his mother would not be revealed until they had returned to Germany. Until she could deliver it, Patty held the unopened letter in the side pocket of her purse and anticipated returning home.

Instead of feeling agitated as she had felt when they had made the trip to the US, she now felt at peace with everything that had transpired. Snuggling closer to her husband, Patty spoke his name.

"Anton?"

"Hmm?" He responded as he lowered the newspaper he had been reading and wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulder.

"I just wanted to say thank you for convincing me to take this trip," she whispered. "It was a good idea."

"You had a nice time, then?" He asked.

She nodded. "I know it sounds crazy, but I did. I mean; it was hard to deal with what happened with my parents, and then Sharon getting abused, but I'm really grateful that we did it. I actually feel much better about everything now."

"Peace wasn't made with your parents, though," he said softly.

"No, but it's not always going to be my choice, is it?" She asked weakly. "If there is one thing that I realized is that the relationship between us has always been broken, but it was not by my choosing. I guess sometimes it's not always going to be up to me. This time, it was up to them and if they don't want it, then there is nothing that I can do about it," she snuggled closer to him. "I just glad that this time, we caught the ten fifteen together."

He nodded as a small smile broke through. "Me too, my beloved," he whispered as he watched her close her eyes.

As she did, she reached for his hand and soon she felt his fingers encircle her own hand. The last thing her gaze came to rest on before falling asleep was the indented crest of the ring that he wore on his left ring finger.

"You are a person of value and you have a friend who loved you enough to give you his most valued possession," Anton's words continued to echo in her mind as Patricia Ann Reiker fell asleep, her body leaned up against his.


End file.
